THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


THE 

YOUNG   SUEVEYOE; 

OE, 

JACK  ON  THE  PRAIRIES. 

BY 

J.   T.   TEOWBEIDGE, 

AUTHOK  OF  "JACK  HAZARD  AND  HIS  FORTUNES,"  ETC. 

WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


BOSTON: 
JAMES  E.  OSGOOD  AND  COMPANY, 

LATE  TICKNOR  &  FIELDS,  AND  FIELDS,  OSGOOD,  &  Co. 

1875. 


COPYRIGHT,  1875. 
Bi     JAMES    K.   OSGOQD    &    CO. 


UNIVERSITY  PRESS  :  WELCH,  BIGELOW,  &  Co., 
CAMBRIDGE, 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  "NOTHING  BUT  A  BOY" 7 

II.  OLD  WIGGETT'S  SECTION  CORNER      .        .  16 

III.  THE  HOMEWARD  TRACK 25 

IV.  A  DEER  HUNT,  AND  HOW  IT  ENDED  .        .  32 
V.  THE  BOY  WITH  ONE  SUSPENDER    ...  41 

VI.  "  LORD  BETTERSON'S  " 47 

VII.  JACK  AT  THE  "CASTLE"         ....  53 

VIII.  HOW  VlNNIE  MADE  A  JOURNEY            .          .  62 

IX.  VINNIE'S  ADVENTURE 68 

X.  JACK  AND  VINNIE  IN  CHICAGO  .        .        .  75 

XI.  JACK'S  NEW  HOME 82 

XII.  VINNIE'S  FUTURE  HOME     ....  92 

XIII.  WHY  JACK  DID  NOT  FIRE  AT  THE  PRAIRIE 

CHICKEN 97 

XIV.  SNOWFOOT'S  NEW  OWNER  .        .        .       .  104 
XV.  GOING  FOR  A  WITNESS 115 

XVI.  PEAKSLOW  GETS  A  QUIRK  IN  HIS  HEAD    .  120 

XVII.  VINNIE  MAKES  A  BEGINNING  ....  126 

XVIII.  VINNIE'S  NEW  BROOM  133 


484106 

LIBRARY 


IV  CONTENTS. 

XIX.  LINK'S  WOOD-PILE 140 

XX.  MORE  WATER  THAN  THEY  WANTED      .         148 

XXL  PEAKSLOW  SHOWS  HIS  HAND    .        .        .157 

XXII.  THE  WOODLAND  SPRING       .        .        .         161 

XXIII.  JACK'S  "Err  OF  ENGINEERING"        .        .167 

XXIV.  PREPARING  FOR  THE  ATTACK        .        .178 
XXV.  THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  BOUNDARY  FENCE    .    184 

XXVI.  VICTORY 189 

XXVII.  VlNNIE  IN  THE   LlON?S   DEN.     .  .  .196 

XXVIII.  AN  "EXTRAORDINARY"  GIRL       .        .        204 

XXIX.  ANOTHER  HUNT,  AND  HOW  IT  ENDED       .    211 

XXX,  JACK'S  PRISONER 219 

XXXI.  EADCLIFF 222 

XXXII.  AN  IMPORTANT  EVENT  ....        '231 

XXXIII.  MRS.  WIGGETT'S  "NOON-MARK"      .        .    235 

XXXIV.  THE  STRANGE  CLOUD    ....        242 
XXXV.  PEAKSLOW  IN  A  TIGHT  PLACE.  —  CECIE  .    249 

XXXVI.  "ON  THE  WAR  TRAIL"        ...        263 

XXXVII.  THE  MYSTERY  OF  A  PAIR  OF  BREECHES.    268 

XXXVIII.  THE  MORNING  AFTER   ....        272 

XXXIX.  FOLLOWING  UP  THE  MYSTERY  .        .        .    276 

XL.  PEAKSLOVS  HOUSE-RAISING         .        .        280 

XLI.  CONCLUSION  287 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS. 


SETTING  THE  STAKES 

JACK  AND  THE  STEANGE  YOUTH     . 

UP-HILL  WORK 

"LORD  BETTERSON" 

TOO  OBLIGING  BY  HALF 

LINK  DOESN'T  CARE  TO  BE  KISSED 

SHOT  ON  THE  WING 

THE  AMIABLE  MR.  PEAKSLOW        . 

VINNIE'S  STRATAGEM 

LINK'S  WOOD-PILE 

HOW  THE  BOYS  WENT  TO  THE  RlVER  FOR  WATER 

TESTING  THE  LEVEL 

OLD  WIGGETT 

"STOP,  OR  I'LL  SHOOT!" 

RETURNING  IN  TRIUMPH 

THE  END  OF  THE  CHASE 

JACK  AND  HIS  JOLLY  PRISONER  .... 

THE  TORNADO  COMING     

PEAKSLOW  REAPPEARS 

FOLLOWING  THE  WAR  TRAIL  UNDER  DIFFICULTIES 
THE  WATER  QUESTION  SETTLED  .... 


THE   YOUNG   SUKVEYOK. 


CHAPTER   I. 

NOTHING  BUT  A  BOY." 

YOUNG  fellow  in  a  light 
buggy,  with  a  big  black 
dog  sitting  composedly 
beside  him,  enjoying  the 
ride,  drove  up,  one  sum 
mer  afternoon,  to  the  door 
of  a  log-house,  in  one  of 
the  early  settlements  of 
Northern  Illinois. 

A  woman  with  lank 
features,  in  a  soiled  gown 
trailing  its  rags  about  her 
bare  feet,  came  and  stood 
in  the  doorway  and  stared 
at  him. 

"  Does     Mr.      Wiggett 
live  here  ? "  he   inquired. 
"Wai,   I   reckon,"   said 

the  woman,  "  'f  he  ain't  dead  or  skedaddled  of  a  sud- 

dent." 


8  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

"  Is  he  at  home  ? " 

"  Wai,  I  reckon." 

"  Can  I  see  him  ? " 

"  I  dunno  notli'n'  to  hender.  Yer,  Sal !  run  up  in 
the  burnt  lot  and  fetch  your  pap.  Tell  him  a  stran 
ger.  You  've  druv  a  good  piece,"  the  woman  added, 
glancing  at  the  buggy-wheels  and  the  horse's  white 
feet,  stained  with  black  prairie  soil. 

"  I  've  driven  over  from  North  Mills,"  replied  the 
young  fellow,  regarding  her  pleasantly,  with  bright, 
honest  features,  from  under  the  shade  of  his  hat- 
brim. 

"  I  'lowed  as  much.  Alight  and  come  into  the 
house.  Old  man  '11  be  yer  in  a  minute." 

He  declined  the  invitation  to  enter;  but,  to  rest 
his  limbs,  leaped  down  from  the  buggy.  Thereupon 
the  dog  rose  from  his  seat  on  the  wagon-bottom, 
jumped  down  after  him,  and  shook  himself. 

"  All  creation  ! "  said  the  woman,  "  what  a  pup 
that  ar  is  !  Yer,  you  young  uns !  Put  back  into  the 
house,  and  hide  under  the  bed,  or  he  '11  eat  ye  up 
like  ye  was  so  much  cl'ar  soap-grease !  " 

At  that  moment  the  dog  stretched  his  great  mouth 
open,  with  a  formidable  yawn.  Panic  seized  the 
"  young  uns,"  and  they  scampered ;  their  bare  legs 
and  exceedingly  scanty  attire  (only  three  shirts  and 
a  half  to  four  little  barbarians)  seeming  to  offer  the 
dog  unusual  facilities,  had  he  chosen  to  regard  them 
as  soap-grease  and  to  regale  himself  on  that  sort  of 
diet.  But  he  was  too  well-bred  and  sood-natured  an 


"NOTHING  BUT  A  BOY.  9 

animal  to  think  of  snapping  up  a  little  Wiggett  or 
two  for  his  luncheon ;  and  the  fugitives,  having  first 
run  under  the  bed  and  looked  out,  ventured  back  to 
the  door,  and  peeped  with  scared  faces  from  behind 
their  mother's  gown. 

To  hide  his  laughter,  the  young  fellow  stood  pat 
ting  and  stroking  his  horse's  neck  until  Sal  returned 
with  her  "  pap." 

"  Mr.  "Wiggett  ? "  inquired  the  youth,  seeing  a  tall, 
spare,  rough  old  man  approach. 

"  That 's  my  name,  stranger.  What  can  I  dew  for 
ye  to-day  ? " 

"  I  Ve  come  to  see  what  I  can  do  for  you,  Mr. 
Wiggett.  I  believe  you  want  your  section  corner 
looked  up." 

"  That  I  dew,  stranger.  But  I  'lowed  't  would  take 
a  land-surveyor  for  that." 

"  I  am  a  land-surveyor,"  said  the  young  fellow, 
with  a  modest  smile. 

"  A  land-surveyor  ?  Why,  you  're  noth'n'  but  a 
boy ! "  And  the  tall  old  man,  bending  a  little,  and 
knitting  his  gray  eyebrows,  looked  down  upon  his 
visitor  with  a  sort  of  amused  curiosity. 

"  That 's  so,"  replied  the  "  boy,"  with  a  laugh  and  a 
blush.  "  But  I  think  I  can  find  your  corner,  if  the 
bearings  are  all  right." 

"  Whur  's  your  instruments  ?  "  asked  the  old  man, 
leaning  over  the  buggy.  "  Them  all  ?  What 's  that 
gun  to  do  with  land-surveyin'  ? " 

"  Nothing  ;  I  brought  that  along,  thinking  I  might 
i* 


10  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

get  a  shot  at  a  rabbit  or  a  prairie  hen.  But  we  shall 
need  an  axe  and  a  shovel." 

"  I  'lowed  your  boss  would  come  himself,  in  place 
of  sendin'  a  boy  ! "  muttered  the  old  man,  taking  up 
the  gun,  —  a  light  double-barrelled  fowling-piece,  — 
sighting  across  it  with  an  experienced  eye,  and  laying 
it  down  again.  "  Sal,  bring  the  axe ;  it 's  stickin'  in 
the  log  thar  by  the  wood-pile.  Curi's  thing,  to  lose 
my  section  corner,  hey  ? " 

"  It 's  not  a  very"  uncommon  thing,"  replied  the 
young  surveyor. 

"  Fact  is,"  said  the  old  man,  "  I  never  found  it  I 
bought  of  Seth  Parkins's  widder  arter  Seth  died,  and 
banged  if  I  've  ever  been  able  to  find  the  gov'ment 
stake." 

"  Maybe  somebody  pulled  it  up,  or  broke  it  off,  to 
kill  a  rattlesnake  with,"  suggested  the  young  sur 
veyor. 

"  Like  enough,"  said  the  old  man.  "  Can't  say  't  I 
blame  him ;  though  he  might  'a'  got  a  stick  in  the 
timber  by  walkin'  a  few  rods.  He  could  n't  'a'  been 
so  bad  off  as  one  o'  you  surveyor  chaps  was  when  the 
gov'ment  survey  went  through.  He  was  off  on  the 
Big  Perairie,  footin'  it  to  his  camp,  when  he  comes  to 
a  rattler  curled  up  in  the  grass,  and  shakin'  his 
tarnal  buzz-tail  at  him.  He  steps  back,  and  casts 
about  him  for  some  sort  of  we'pon ;  he  had  n't  a 
thing  in  his  fist  but  a  roll  of  paper,  and  if  ever  a 
chap  hankered  arter  a  stick  or  a  stun,  they  say  he 
did.  But  it  was  all  jest  perairie  grass ;  nary  rock 


"NOTHING   BUT  A  BOY."  11 

nor  a  piece  of  timber  within  three  mile.  Snake 
seemed  to  'predate  his  advantage,  and  flattened  his 
head  and  whirred  his  rattle  sassier  'n  ever.  Surveyor 
chap  could  n't  stau'  that.  So  what  does  he  dew,  like 
a  blamed  fool,  but  jest  off  with  his  boot  and  hurl  it, 
'lowin'  he  could  kill  a  rattler  that  way  ?  He  missed 
shot.  Then,  to  git  his  boot,  he  had  to  pull  off 
t'  other,  and  tackle  the  snake  with  that.  Lost  that 
tew.  Then  he  was  in  a  perdickerment ;  snake  got 
both  boots;  curled  up  on  tew  'em,  ready  to  strike, 
and  seemin'  to  say,  '  If  you  've  any  more  boots  to 
spar',  bring  'em  on.'  Surveyor  chap  had  n't  no  more 
boots,  to  his  sorrow ;  and,  arter  layin'  siege  to  the 
critter  till  sundown,  hopin'  he  'd  depart  in  peace  and 
leave  him  his  property,  he  guv  it  up  as  a  bad  job,  and 
footed  it  to  the  camp  in  his  stockin's,  fancyin'  he  was 
treadin'  among  rattlers  all  the  way." 

The  story  was  finished  by  the  time  the  axe  was 
brought ;  the  old  man  picked  up  a  rusty  shovel  lying 
by  the  house,  and,  getting  into  the  buggy  with  his 
tools,  he  pointed  out  to  his  young  companion  a  rough 
road  leading  through  the  timber. 

This  was  a  broad  belt  of  woodland,  skirting  the 
eastern  side  of  a  wide,  fertile  river-bottom,  and  giving 
to  the  settlement  the  popular  name  of  "  Long  Woods." 

On  the  other  side  of  the  timber  lay  the  high  prairie 
region,  covered  with  coarse  wild  grass,  and  spotted 
with  flowers,  without  tree  or  shrub  visible  until  an 
other  line  of  timber,  miles  away,  marked  the  vicinity 
of  another  stream. 


12  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR 

The  young  surveyor  and  the  old  man,  in  the  jolt 
ing  buggy,  followed  by  the  dog,  left  the  log-house 
and  the  valley  behind  them;  traversed  the  woods, 
through  flickering  sun  and  shade;  and  drove 
southward  along  the  edge  of  the  rolling  prairie, 
until  the  old  man  said  they  had  better  stop  and 
hitch. 

"  I  don't  hitch  my  horse,"  said  the  young  surveyor. 
"The  dog  looks  out  for  him.  Here,  old  fellow, 
watch!" 

"  The  section  corner,  I  ca'c'late,"  said  the  old  man, 
shouldering  his  axe,  "is  off  on  the  perairie  thar, 
souie'er's.  Come,  and  I  '11  show  ye  the  trees." 

"  Is  that  big  oak  with  the  broken  limb  one  of 
them  ? " 

"  Wai,  now,  how  did  ye  come  to  guess  that  ?  —  one 
tree  out  of  a  hundred  ye  might  'a'  picked." 

"  It  is  a  prominent  tree,"  replied  the  youth,  "  and, 
if  I  had  been  the  surveyor,  I  think  I  should  have 
chosen  it  for  one,  to  put  my  bearings  on." 

"  Boy,  you  're  right !  But  it  took  me  tew  days  to 
decide  even  that.  The  underbrush  has  growed  up 
around  it,  and  the  old  scar  has  nigh  about  healed 
over." 

The  old  man  led  the  way  through  the  thickets,  and, 
reaching  a  small  clear  space  at  the  foot  of  the  great 
oak,  pointed  out  the  scar,  where  the  trunk  had  been 
blazed  by  the  axemen  of  the  government  survey.  On 
a  surface  about  six  inches  broad,  hewed  for  the  pur 
pose,  the  distance  and  direction  of  the  tree  from  the 


"NOTHING  BUT  A  BOY."  13 

corner  stake  had,  no  doubt,  been  duly  marked.  But 
only  a  curiously  shaped  wound  was  left.  The  growth 
of  the  wood  was  rapid  in  that  rich  region,  and, 
although  the  cut  had  been  made  but  a  few  years  be 
fore,  a  broad  lip  of  smooth  new  bark  had  rolled  up 
about  it  from  the  sides,  and  so  nearly  closed  over  it 
that  only  a  narrow,  perpendicular,  dark  slit  remained. 

"  What  do  you  make  of  that  ? "  said  Mr.  Wiggett, 
putting  his  fingers  at  the  opening,  and  looking  down 
at  his  companion. 

"  I  don't  make  much  of  it  as  it  looks  now,"  the 
young  surveyor  replied. 

"  Did  n't  I  tell  you  't  would  take  an  old  head  to 
find  my  corner?  T'  other  tree  is  in  a  wus  shape 
than  this  yer.  Now  I  reckon  you  11  be  satisfied  to 
turn  about  and  whip  home,  and  tell  your  boss  it 's  a 
job  for  him." 

"  Give  me  your  axe,"  was  the  reply. 

"  Boy,  take  kere  what  you  're  about ! " 

"  0,  I  will  take  care ;  don't  be  afraid  ! "  And, 
grasping  the  axe,  the  young  surveyor  began  to  cut 
away  the  folds  of  new  wood  which  had  formed  over 
the  scar. 

"I  see  what  you're  up  tew,"  said  the  old  man, 
gaining  confidence  at  every  stroke.  "  Give  me  the 
axe ;  you  ain't  tall  enough  to  work  handy."  And 
with  a  few  strokes,  being  a  skilful  chopper,  he 
cleared  the  old  blaze,  and  exposed  the  blackened 
tablet  which  Nature  had  so  nearly  enclosed  in  her 
casket  of  living  wood. 


14  THE  YOUNG   SURVEYOR. 

There,  cut  into  the  old  hewed  surface,  were  the 
•well-preserved  marks  of  the  government  survey: 

N.  48°  15'  w. 
18  K.  10  L. 

"  What  does  that  mean  ? "  asked  the  old  man,  as 
the  youth  made  a  copy  of  these  marks  in  his  note 
book. 

"  It  means  that  this  tree  is  eighteen  rods  and  ten 
links  from  your  corner  stake,  in  a  direction  forty- 
eight  degrees  and  fifteen  minutes  west  of  north." 

"I  can  understand  your  rods  and  links,"  said 
the  old  man;  "for  I  know  your  surveyor's  chain 
is  four  rods  long,  and  has  a  hundred  links.  But 
banged  if  I  know  anything  about  your  degrees  and 
minutes." 

"  All  that  is  just  as  simple,"  replied  the  young 
surveyor.  "  A  circle  is  supposed  to  be  divided  into 
three  hundred  and  sixty  degrees.  Each  degree  is 
divided  into  sixty  minutes;  and  so  forth.  Now,  if 
you  stand  looking  directly  north,  then  turn  a  quarter 
of  the  way  round,  and  look  straight  west,  you  have 
turned  a  quarter  of  a  circle,  or  ninety  degrees ;  and 
the  angle  where  you  stand  —  where  the  north  line 
and  the  west  line  meet  —  is  called  an  angle  of  ninety 
degrees.  Half  as  far  is  forty-five  degrees.  Seen  from 
the  corner  stake,  wherever  it  is,  this  tree  bears  a  little 
more  than  forty-five  degrees  west  of  north;  it  is  for 
ty-eight  degrees  and  a  quarter.  Where 's  the  other 
tree  ? " 


"NOTHING  BUT  A  BOY."  15 

That  was  ten  or  eleven  rods  away,  still  in  the  edge 
of  the  timber ;  and  it  bore  on  its  blazed  trunk,  facing 

7  '  O 

the  open  prairie,  the  inscription  —  laid  bare  by  the 
old  man's  ready  axe  — 

N.  82°  27'  w. 
16  R.  29  L. 

"Eighty-two  degrees  twenty-seven  minutes  west 
of  north,  and  sixteen  rods  twenty-nine  links,  from 
your  corner,"  the  young  surveyor  read  aloud,  as  he 
copied  the  marks  into  his  note-book.  "The  other 
tree  is  so  surrounded  by  undergrowth,  it  would  take 
you  and  your  axe  an  hour  to  cut  a  passage  through 
so  that  I  could  run  a  line ;  and  I  am  going  to  try 
running  a  line  from  this  tree  alone.  Be  cutting  a 
few  good  stakes,  while  I  go  and  bring  up  my  horse 
and  set  him  to  eating  grass." 


16  THE  YOUNG   SURVEYOR. 


CHAPTER    II. 

OLD  WIGGETT'S  SECTION  CORNER. 

THE  horse  was  driven  to  a  good  shady  place  on  the 
edge  of  the  woods,  relieved  of  his  bridle,  and  left 
in  charge  of  the  dog.  In  the  mean  while  the  old 
man  cut  a  few  oak  saplings  and  hewed  them  into 
stakes. 

"Now,  I  want  ye  to  give  me  a  notion  of  how 
you  're  gwine  to  work,"  he  said,  as  the  youth  brought 
his  compass  and  set  it  up  on  its  tripod  at  the  foot  of 
the  tree.  "  For,  otherwise,  how  am  I  to  be  sure  of 
my  corner,  when  you  say  you've  found  it?" 

"  0,  I  think  we  shall  find  something  to  convince 
you  !  However,  look  here,  and  I  '11  explain." 

While  waiting  for  the  wavering  needle  to  settle  in 
its  place,  the  youth  made  a  hasty  diagram  in  a  page 
of  his  note-book. 

"Here  we  are  on  the  edge  of  the  timber.  A  is 
your  first  tree.  B  is  the  one  where  we  are.  Now  if 
the  bearings  are  correct,  and  I  run  two  lines  accord 
ingly,  the  place  where  they  meet  will  be  the  place 
for  your  corner  stake ;  say  at  C." 

"  That  looks  cute  ;  I  like  the  shape  of  that ! "  said 
the  old  man,  interested. 

"If  the  distance  was  short,  —  feet  instead  of  rods, 


OLD  WIGGETT'S  SECTION  COKNER.  17 


—  all  the  instruments  we  should  want,"  said  the 
young  surveyor,  with  his  peculiarly  bright  smile, 
"would  be  a  foot  measure  and  two  strings." 

"  How  so  ? "  said  the  old  man,  who  could  not  be 
lieve  that  science  was  as  simple  a  thing  as  that. 

"Why,  for  instance,  we  will  say  the  tree  A  is 
eighteen  feet  from  the  corner  you  want  to  find ;  B, 
sixteen  feet.  Now  take  a  string  eighteen  feet  long, 
and  fasten  the  end  of  it  by  a  nail  to  the  centre  of 
the  blazed  trunk,  A  :  fasten  another  sixteen  feet  Ions 

O 

to  B ;  then  stretch  out  the  loose  ends  of  both  until 
they  just  meet;  and  there  is  the  place  for  your 
stake." 

"  I  declar' ! "  exclaimed  the  old  man.  "  That 's  the 
use  of  the  tew  trees.  Banged  if  I  dew  see,  though, 
how  you  're  gwine  to  git  along  by  runnin'  a  line 
from  jest  one." 

"  If  I  run  two  lines,  as  I  have  shown  you,  where 


18  THE  YOUNG   SURVEYOR. 

they  meet  will  be  the  point.  Now  if  I  run  one  line, 
and  measure  it,  I  shall  find  the  point  where  the  other 
line  ought  to  meet  it.  We  11  see.  Here  on  my  com 
pass  is  a  circle  and  a  scale  of  degrees,  which  shows 
me  how  to  set  it  according  to  the  bearings.  Now 
look  through  these  sights,  and  you  are  looking 
straight  in  the  direction  of  your  section  corner." 

"  Curi's,  ain't  it  ? "  grinned  the  old  man.  "  'Cordin' 
to  that,  my  corner  is  out  on  the  perairie,  jest  over  be- 
yant  that  ar  knoll." 

"  You  're  right.  Now  go  forward  to  the  top  of  it, 
while  I  sight  you,  and  we  '11  set  a  stake  there.  As  I 
signal  with  my  hands  this  way,  or  this,  move  your 
stake  to  the  right  or  left,  till  I  make  this  motion ; 
then  you  are  all  right." 

The  young  surveyor  had  got  his  compass  into  po 
sition,  by  looking  back  through  the  sights  at  the 
tree.  He  now  placed  himself  between  it  and  the 
tree,  and,  sighting  forward,  directed  the  old  man,  who 
went  on  over  the  knoll,  where  to  set  his  stakes. 

On  the  other  side  of  the  knoll,  it  was  found  that 
the  line  crossed  a  slough,  —  or  "slew,"  as  the  old 
man  termed  it,  —  which  lay  in  a  long,  winding  hol 
low  of  the  hills.  This  morass  was  partly  rilled  with 
stagnant  water;  and  the  old  man  gave  it  a  bad 
name. 

"  It 's  the  wust  slew  in  the  hull  country.  I  've 
lost  tew  cows  in  't.  I  would  n't  go  through  it  for 
the  price  of  my  farm.  Could  n't  git  through ;  a  man 
would  sink  intew  it  up  tew  his  neck." 


ODD  WIGGETT'S  SECTION  CORNER.  19 

"  Then  we  may  have  to  get  a  boat  to  find  your  sec 
tion  corner,"  laughed  the  young  surveyor. 

"  But  it 's  noth'n'  but  a  bog  this  time  o'  year ;  ye 
can't  navigate  a  boat  thar.  And  it  '11  take  till  mid 
dle  o'  next  week  to  build  a  brush  road  acrost.  Guess 
we  're  up  a  stump  now,  hey  ? " 

"  0,  no ;  stumps  are  not  so  plenty,  where  I  under 
take  jobs !  Let 's  have  a  stake  down  there,  pretty 
near  the  slew ;  then  we  will  measure  our  line,  and 
see  how  much  farther  we  have  to  go." 

The  old  man  helped  bear  the  chain ;  and  a  careful 
measurement  showed  that  the  stake  at  the  edge  of 
the  slough  was  still  four  rods  and  thirty  links  from 
the  corner  they  sought. 

"  Banged  if  it  don't  come  jest  over  on  t'  other  side 
of  the  slew ! "  the  old  man  exclaimed,  computing  the 
distance  with  his  eye.  "  But  we  can't  measure  a  rod 
furder ;  and  yer  we  be  stuck." 

"  Not  yet,  old  friend ! "  cried  the  young  surveyor. 
"  Since  we  can't  cross,  we  '11  measure  the  rest  of  our 
distance  along  on  this  shore." 

The  old  man  looked  down  upon  him  with  indigna 
tion  and  amazement. 

" Think  I'm  a  dog-goned  fool ? "  he  cried.  " The 
idee  of  turnin'  from  our  course,  and  measurin'  along 
by  the  slew  !  What 's  the  good  of  that  ? " 

Finding  that  the  old  man  would  not  aid  or  abet 
what  seemed  to  him  such  complete  folly,  the  young 
surveyor  made  another  little  diagram  in  his  note 
book,  and  explained :  — 


20 


THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 


"Here  is  the  end  of  our  line  running  from  trie 
direction  B,  —  theoretically  a  straight,  horizontal  line, 
though  it  curves  over  the  knoll.  You  noticed  how, 
coming  down  the  slope  ahead  of  you,  I  held  my  end 
of  the  chain  up  from  the  ground,  to  make  it  horizon 
tal,  and  then  with  my  plumb-line  found  the  corre 
sponding  point  in  the  ground,  to  start  fresh  from. 
That  was  to  get  the  measurement  of  a  horizontal 
line ;  for  if  you  measure  all  the  ups  and  downs  of 
hills  and  hollows,  you'll  find  your  surveying  will 
come  out  in  queer  shape." 

The  old  man  scratched  his  bushy  gray  head,  and 
said  he  had  n't  thought  of  that. 

"Well,"  the  young  surveyor  continued,  "we  are 
running  our  line  off  towards  C,  when  we  come  to  the 
slew.  Our  last  stake  is  at  D,  —  say  this  little  thing 
with  a  flag  on  it.  Now,  what  is  to  be  done  ?  for  we 
must  measure  four  rods  and  thirty  links  farther.  I 
measure  that  distance  from  D  to  E,  along  this  shore, 
running  my  new  line  at  an  angle  of  sixty  degrees 


ODD  WIGGETT'S  SECTION  CORNER.  21 

from  the  true  course.  Then,  with  my  compass  at  E, 
I  sight  another  line  at  an  angle  of  sixty  degrees  from 
my  last.  I  am  making  what  is  called  an  equilateral 
triangle;  that  is,  a  triangle  with  equal  sides  and 
equal  angles.  Each  angle  must  measure  sixty  de 
grees.  With  two  angles  and  one  side,  we  can  always 
get  the  other  two  sides ;  and  the  other  angle  will  be 
where  those  two  sides  meet.  They  will  meet  at  C. 
Now,  since  the  sides  are  of  equal  length,  the  distance 
from  D  to  C  is  the  same  as  from  D  to  E,  —  that  is, 
four  rods  and  thirty  links,  just  the  distance  we  wish 
to  go ;  C,  then,  is  the  place  for  your  corner  stake." 

"It  looks  very  well  on  paper,"  said  the  old  man, 
"but"  —  casting  his  eye  across  the  bog  —  "how  in 
the  name  of  seven  kingdoms  are  ye  ever  gwine  to  fix 
yer  stake  thar  ?  " 

"  That  is  easy.  Go  round  to  the  other  side  of  the 
slew,  get  yourself  in  range  with  our  line  from  the 
tree,  by  sighting  across  the  stakes,  and  walk  down 
toward  the  slew,  —  that  is,  on  this  dotted  line.  Hav 
ing  got  my  angle  of  sixty  degrees  at  E,  I  will  sight 
across  and  stop  you  when  I  see  you  at  C.  There 
stick  your  last  stake." 

"Banged  if  that  ain't  cute!  Young  man,  what 
mout  be  your  name  ? " 

"I  was  only  boy  a  few  minutes  ago,"  said  the 
young  surveyor,  slyly.  "Now,  if  you  are  ready, 
we  '11  set  to  work  and  carry  out  this  plan." 

The  line  from  D  to  E  was  measured  off.  Then  the 
youth  set  his  compass  to  obtain  the  proper  angle  at 


22  THE  YOUNG   SUEVEYOR. 

E\  while  the  old  man,  with  his  axe  and  a  fresh 
stake,  tramped  around  to  the  eastern  side  of  the 
slough.  Having  got  the  range  of  the  stakes,  he  was 
moving  slowly  hack  toward  them,  holding  his  stake 
before  him,  when  the  youth  signalled  him  to  stop  just 
in  the  edge  of  the  quagmire. 

The  new  stake  stuck,  the  young  surveyor,  taking 
up  his  tripod  and  compass,  went  round  to  him. 

"  That  stake,"  said  he,  "  is  not  far  from  your  corner. 
Are  there  any  signs  ? " 

"  I  've  been  thinkin',"  said  the  old  man,  "  the  'arth 
yer  looks  like  it  had  been  disturbed  some  time; 
though  it 's  all  overgrowed  so  with  these  clumps  of 
slew-grass,  ye  can't  tell  what's  a  nat'ral  hummock 
and  what  ain't.  Don't  that  look  like  a  kind  of  a 
trench  ? " 

"  Yes ;  and  here 's  another  at  right  angles  with  it. 
Surveyors  cut  such  places  on  the  prairies,  pile  up  the 
sods  inside  the  angle,  and  drive  their  corner  stakes 
through  them.  But  there  must  have  been  water  here 
when  this  job  was  done,  which  accounts  for  its  not 
being  done  better.  We  '11  improve  it.  Go  for  the 
shovel.  I'll  get  the  bearings  of  those  trees  in  the 
mean  while,  and  see  how  far  wrong  they  make  us  out 
to  be." 

When  the  old  man  returned  with  the  shovel,  he 
found  his  boy  surveyor  standing  by  the  compass, 
with  folded  arms,  looking  over  at  the  woodland  with 
a  smile  of  satisfaction. 

Sighting  the  trees,  the  tall,  straight  stems  of  which 


OLD  WIGGETT'S  SECTION  CORNER.  23 

.were  both  visible  over  the  knoll,  he  had  found 
that  their  bearings  corresponded  with  those  copied 
in  his  note-book.  This  proved  his  work  to  his  own 
mind ;  but  the  old  man  would  not  yet  confess  him 
self  convinced. 

"  We  may  be  somewhur  nigh  the  spot,  but  I  want 
to  be  sure  of  the  exact  spot,"  he  insisted. 

"  That  you  can't  be  sure  of ;  not  even  if  the  best 
surveyor  in  the  world  should  come  and  get  it  from 
these  bearings,"  replied  the  youth.  "Probably  the 
bearings  themselves  are  not  exact.  The  government 
surveyors  do  their  work  in  a  hurry.  The  common 
compass  they  use  does  n't  make  as  fine  angles  as  the 
theodolite  or  transit  instrument  does ;  and  then  the 
chain  varies  a  trifle  in  length  with  every  variation  of 
temperature ;  the  metal  contracts  and  expands,  you 
know.  Surveying,  where  the  land  is  worth  a  dollar 
and  a  quarter  a  foot,  instead  of  a  dollar  and  a  quarter 
an  acre,  is  done  more  carefully.  Yet  I  am  positive, 
from  the  indications  here,  that  we  are  within  a  few 
inches  of  your  corner." 

"  A  few  inches,  or  a  few  feet,  or  a  few  rods  ! "  mut 
tered  the  old  man,  crossly.  "  Seems  like  thar  's  a  good 
deal  of  guess-work,  arter  all." 

"  I  am  sorry  you  think  so,"  replied  the  young  sur 
veyor,  quietly  removing  his  tripod.  "  If,  however, 
you  are  dissatisfied  with  my  work,  you  can  employ 
another  surveyor ;  if  he  tells  you  I  am  far  out  of  the 
way,  why,  then,  you  need  n't  pay  me." 

The  old  man  made  no  reply,  but,  seizing  the  shovel, 


24  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

began  to  level  the  hummock  a  little,  in  order  to  pre 
pare  it  for  a  pile  of  fresh  sods.  He  was  slashing 
away  at  it,  with  the  air  of  a  petulant  man  work 
ing  off  his  discontent,  when  he  struck  something 
hard. 

"What's  that  ar?"  he  growled.  "Can't  be  a 
stone.  Ain't  a  rock  as  big  as  a  hazel-nut  this  side 
the  timber." 

Digging  round  the  obstacle,  he  soon  exposed  the 
splintered  end  of  an  upright  piece  of  wood.  He  laid 
hold  of  it  and  tried  to  pull  it  up.  The  youth,  with 
lively  interest,  took  the  shovel,  and  dug  and  pried. 
Suddenly  up  canie  the  stick,  and  the  old  man  went 
over  backwards  with  it  into  the  bog. 

He  scrambled  to  his  feet,  dripping  with  muddy 
water,  and  brandished  his  trophy,  exclaiming  :  — 

"  Dog  my  cats  !  if  't  ain't  the  eend  of  the  ol'  cor 
ner  stake,  left  jest  whur  't  was  broke  off,  when  the 
rest  was  wanted  to  pry  a  wheel  out  o'  the  slew,  or  to 
kill  a  rattler  with ! " 

He  appeared  jubilant  over  the  discovery,  while  the 
young  surveyor  regarded  it  simply  as  a  piece  of  good 
luck. 


THE  HOMEWARD  TEACK.  25 


CHAPTER    III. 

THE  HOMEWARD  TEACK. 

THE  new  stake  having  been  stuck  in  the  hole  left 
by  the  point  of  the  old  one,  and  plenty  of  fresh  turf 
piled  up  about  it,  the  old  man  wiped  his  fingers  on 
the  dry  prairie-grass,  thrust  a  hand  into  his  pocket, 
and  brought  forth  an  ancient  leather  wallet. 

"  My  friend,"  said  he,  "  shall  I  settle  with  you  or 
with  your  boss  ? " 

"  You  may  as  well  settle  with  me." 

"  Nuff  said.     What 's  yer  tax  ? " 

"Two  dollars  and  a  half." 

"  Tew  dollars  and  a  —  dog-gone-ation !  You  Ve 
been  only  tew  hours  and  a  half  about  the  job.  I  can 
hire  a  man  all  day  for  half  a  dollar." 

"It  is  an  afternoon's  work  for  me,"  argued  the 
young  surveyor.  "I've  had  a  long  way  to  drive. 
Then,  you  must  understand,  we  surveyors  "  (this  was 
said  with  an  air  of  importance)  "  don't  get  pay  merely 
for  the  time  we  are  employed,  but  also  for  our  knowl 
edge  of  the  business,  which  it  has  taken  us  time  to 
learn.  If  I  had  been  obliged  to  hire  the  horse  I 
drive,  you  see,  I  should  n't  have  much  left  out  of  two 
dollars  and  a  half." 

"  Friend,  you  're  right.  Tew  'n'  a  half  is  reason- 
2 


26  THE  YOUNG   SURVEYOR. 

able.     And  if  I  have  another  job  of  land-surveyin', 
you  are  the  man  for  my  money." 

"  A  man,  am  I,  now  ? "  And  with  a  laugh  the 
young  surveyor  pocketed  his  fee. 

"Good  as  a  man,  I  allow,  anytime  o'  day.  You've 
worked  at  this  yer  thing  right  smart,  and  1 11  give  ye 
the  credit  on  't.  How  long  have  ye  been  larnin  the 
trade  ? " 

"  O,  two  years,  more  or  less,  studying  at  odd  spells  ! 
But  I  never  made  a  business  of  it  until  I  came  to 
this  new  country." 

"  What  State  be  ye  from  ? " 

"New  York." 

"  York  State !    That 's  whur  I  hail  from." 

"  One  would  n't  think  so ;  you  have  a  good  many 
Southern  and  Western  words  in  your  talk." 

"  I  come  by  'em  honest,"  said  the  old  man.  "  I 
run  away  from  home  when  I  was  a  boy,  like  a  derned 
fool ;  I  've  lived  a'most  everywhur ;  and  I  've  married 
four  wives,  and  raised  four  craps  of  children.  My 
fust  wife  I  picked  up  in  ol'  Kaintuck.  My  next  was 
an  Arkansaw  woman.  My  third  was  a  Michigander. 
My  present  was  born  and  raised  in  the  South,  but  I 
married  her  in  Southern  Illinois.  She  's  nigh  on  to 
forty  year  younger  'n  I  be,  and  smart  as  a  steel 
trap,  tell  you !  So  you  see  we  're  kind  of  a  mixed- 
up  family.  My  fust  and  second  broods  of  chil 
dren  's  married  off,  or  buried,  —  scattered  to  the 
four  winds  o'  heaven !  Tew  boys  o'  the  third  brood, 
and  that  ar  Sal,  is  with  me  yit.  Some  of  the  pres- 


THE  HOMEWAKD   TKACK.  27 

ent  brood  you  've  seen.  Thar 's  been  twenty-one  in 
aU." 

"  Of  the  fourth  brood  ? " 

"  No,  of  the  lot.    Whose  hoss  mout  that  be  ? " 

"  Mine ;  I  brought  him  from  the  East  with  me." 

"  What  do  you  have  to  pay  for  a  beast  like  that, 
now,  in  York  State  ? " 

"  I  did  n't  pay  anything  for  him." 

"  Somebody  gi'n  him  tew  ye  ? " 

"  Not  exactly." 

"  Ye  gambled  for  him  ? " 

"  No." 

"  Eaised  him  from  a  colt,  then  ? " 

"  No." 

"  Stole  him  ?  " 

"  Not  much." 

"  Picked  him  up  astray  ? " 

The  young  surveyor,  laughing,  shook  his  head. 

"  Then  how  in  the  name  o'  seven  kingdoms  did  ye 
come  by  him,  if  ye  did  n't  find  him,  nor  steal  him, 
nor  raise  him  from  a  colt,  nor  buy  him,  nor  have  him 
gi'n  tew  ye  ? " 

"  I  borrowed  him  of  a  neighbor,  and  drove  him  to 
a  show,  where  the  old  elephant  broke  loose  and  had 
the  handling  of  him  for  about  a  second  and  a  half. 
The  owners  of  the  elephant  paid  the  damages ;  and  I 
kept  the  horse.  Nobody  thought  he  would  get  well ; 
but  he  is  now  scarcely  lame  at  all.  I  can  show  you 
the  scars  where  he  was  hurt." 

The  two  had  approached  the  wagon  during  this 


28  THE  YOUNG   SURVEYOR. 

talk  ;  and  now  the  old  man  examined  the  horse  with 
a  good  deal  of  curiosity. 

"That  your  dog  tew?" 

"  Yes,  sir.     Here,  Lion  ! " 

"  Cost  ye  suth'n,  did  n't  it,  to  bring  yer  animals 
West  with  ye  ? " 

"  Not  a  great  deal.  When  my  friends  wrote  for 
me  to  come,  they  said  good  horses  were  scarce  and 
high-priced  out  here,  and  advised  me  to  bring  mine. 
I  could  n't  leave  my  dog  behind,  —  could  I,  old 
Lion?" 

"  Who  mout  your  friends  be  ? " 

"  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lanman,  at  North  Mills ;  and  Mrs. 
Lanman's  brother,  —  my  boss,  as  you  call  him, — 
Mr.  Felton,  the  surveyor.  They  came  out  last  year ; 
and  last  winter  they  wrote  to  me,  offering  me  a  good 
chance  if  I  should  come.  It  was  in  winter ;  I  drove 
Snowfoot  in  a  cutter,  and  crossed  the  Detroit  Paver 
on  the  ice  just  before  it  broke  up.  There  the 
sleighing  left  me;  so  I  sold  my  cutter,  bought  a 
saddle,  and  made  the  rest  of  the  journey  on  horse 
back.  That  was  rather  hard  on  the  dog,  but  I 
got  the  stage-drivers  to  give  him  a  lift  once  in  a 
while." 

"  What  did  you  say  your  name  was  ? "  the  old 
man  inquired. 

"  I  don't  think  I  said.  But  I  will  say  now.  My 
name  is  Eagdon,  —  Henry  Eagdon.  My  friends  call 
me  Jack." 

"  And  it  ain't  yer  name  ? " 


THE   HOMEWARD   TRACK.  29 

"  0,  yes,  it  is,  and  yet  it  is  n't !  I  was  brought  up 
to  it.  My  friends  like  it,  and  so  I  keep  it."  * 

"  Wai,  Jack,  —  if  you  '11  rank  me  with  your  friends, 
and  le'  me  call  ye  so,"  said  the  old  man,  with  a  cor 
dial  grip  of  his  great,  flat  hand,  —  "I  s'pose  we  part 
yer,  and  say  good  by.  1 11  shoulder  my  tools,  and 
take  a  cow-path  through  the  woods  ;  you  '11  find  a 
better  road  than  the  one  we  come  by,  furder  north. 
Jest  keep  along  the  edge  of  the  perairie.  I  sha'  n't 
forgit  this  job." 

"  Nor  I,"  said  the  young  surveyor,  with  a  curious 
smile. 

It  was  the  first  work  of  the  kind  he  had  under 
taken  on  his  own  account,  and  without  assistance ; 
for  which  reason  he  felt  not  a  little  proud  of  it.  But 
he  did  not  tell  the  old  man  so. 

After  parting  company  with  him,  he  drove  in  the 
shade  of  the  woods,  along  a  track  so  little  travelled 
that  the  marks  of  wheels  looked  like  dark  ruled  lines 
in  the  half-trodden  grass. 

The  pleasant  summer  afternoon  was  drawing  to  a 
close.  The  peculiar  wild  scent  of  the  prairie,  which 
seems  to  increase  as  the  cool  evening  comes  on,  filled 
all  the  air.  The  shadows  of  the  forest  were  stretch 
ing  in  a  vast,  uneven  belt  over  summit  and  hollow  ; 
while  far  away  beyond,  in  seemingly  limitless  expanse, 
swept  the  golden-green  undulations  of  the  sunlit  hills. 

*  See  "  FAST  FRIENDS"  ;  also  the  previous  volumes  of  this  series,  — 
"JACK  HAZARD  AND  HIS  FORTUNES,"  "A  CHANCE  FOR  HIMSELF,"  and 
"  DOING  His  BEST,"  in  which  is  given  a  full  account  of  the  young  sur 
veyor's  early  life  and  adventures. 


30  THE  YOUNG  SUKVEYOE. 

Jack  —  for  I  trust  we  shall  also  be  entitled  to  call 
him  so  —  kept  his  eye  out  for  game,  as  he  drove 
leisurely  along  ;  stopped  once  or  twice  for  a  rabbit  on 
the  edge  of  the  woods  ;  and,  finally,  pulled  up  sharp 
ly,  as  a  prairie-hen  shot  whirring  out,  almost  from 
under  his  wheels. 

He  sprang  to  his  feet  and  faced  about,  raising  his 
gun ;  but  before  he  could  take  aim,  the  bird,  at  the 
end  of  a  short,  straight  flight,  dropped  into  the  prairie- 
grass  a  few  rods  away. 

Jack  followed  on  foot,  holding  his  piece  ready  to 
fire.  Knowing  the  shy  habits  of  the  bird,  he  trampled 
the  grass  about  the  spot  where  she  had  alighted,  hop 
ing  to  scare  her  up.  He  also  sent  his  dog  coursing 
about ;  but  Lion,  though  an  intelligent  animal,  had 
no  scent  for  birds. 

Suddenly,  from  the  very  ground  between  the  hunt 
er's  feet,  with  a  startling  rush  and  thunder  of  wings, 
the  hen  rose.  Up  went  gun  to  shoulder.  But  in 
stantly  the  dog  gave  chase,  and  kept  so  exactly  in  the 
line  of  flight,  that  Jack  durst  not  fire. 

"  You  silly  boy's  dog  ! "  he  said  ;  "  don't  you  know 
better  than  that  ?  You  '11  get  a  stray  shot  some  day, 
if  you  run  before  my  gun-barrels  in  that  fashion. 
Now  go  to  the  horse,  and  stay." 

The  dog,  who  had  fancied  that  he  was  doing  good 
service,  dropped  ears  and  tail  at  this  rebuke,  and  re- 
•tired  from  the  field. 

Jack  was  continuing  the  hunt,  when  all  at  once  a 
strange  spell  seemed  to  come  over  him.  It  found 


THE   HOMEWARD   TRACK.  31 

him  on  one  foot,  and  he  remained  on  one  foot,  pois 
ing  the  other  behind  him,  for  several  seconds.  Then, 
softly  putting  down  the  lifted  leg,  and  lowering  his 
gun,  he  stole  swiftly  back,  in  a  crouching  attitude, 
to  his  wagon  by  the  woodside. 

Taking  his  horse  by  the  bridle,  he  led  him  down 
into  a  little  hollow.  Then,  piercing  the  undergrowth, 
he  hastened  to  a  commanding  position,  where,  him 
self  hidden  by  the  bushes,  he  could  look  off  on  the 
prairie. 

His  heart  beat  fast,  and  his  hand  shook,  as  he  drew 
the  bird-shot  out  of  the  two  barrels  of  his  fowling- 
piece,  reloading  one  with  buck-shot,  the  other  with 
an  ounce  ball. 

All  the  while  his  eye  kept  glancing  from  his  gun 
to  the  shadowy  slope  of  a  distant  hill,  where  were 
two  objects  which  looked  like  a  deer  and  a  fawn 
feeding. 


32  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

A  DEER  HUNT,  AND  HOW  IT  ENDED. 

THEY  were  a  long  way  off,  —  more  than  half  a 
mile,  he  thought.  Evidently  they  had  not  seen  him.  • 
Though  marvellously  quick  to  catch  scent  or  sound, 
deer  have  not  a  fine  sense  of  sight  for  distant  objects. 

"They  have  left  the  covert  early,  to  go  out  and 
feed,"  thought  he.  "  If  not  frightened,  they  will 
browse  around  in  the  hollows  there  until  dark." 

He  was  wondering  how  he  should  manage  to  creep 
near,  and  get  a  shot  at  the  shy  creatures,  when  the 
dog  barked. 

"  That  won't  do  ! "  he  muttered ;  and,  hurrying  to 
silence  Lion,  he  saw  a  stranger  loitering  along  the 
prairie  road. 

Jack  stepped  out  of  the  bushes  into  the  hollow, 
and  beckoned. 

"  I  Ve  sighted  a  couple  of  deer  that  I  'm  trying 
to  get  a  shot  at ;  if  you  go  over  the  hill,  you  '11 
scare  'em." 

The  stranger  —  a  slender  youth  in  soiled  shirt 
sleeves,  carrying  a  coat  on  his  arm  —  looked  at  him 
saucily,  with  his  head  on  one  side  and  a  quid  turning 
in  the  cheek,  and  said,  — 

"  Well !  and  why  should  n't  I  scare  'em  ? " 


A  DEER  HUNT,  AND   HOW  IT  ENDED.  33 

"  I  can't  hinder  you,  of  course ;  but,"  said  Jack, 
"  if  you,  were  hunting,  and  /  should  be  passing  by,  I 
should  think  it  a  matter  of  honor  —  " 

"  Honor  is  an  egg  that  don't  hatch  in  this  country," 
interrupted  the  stranger  ;  and  the  quid  went  into  the 
other  cheek,  while  the  head  went  over  on  the  other 
side,  as  if  to  balance  it.  "  But  never  mind ;  't  ain't 
my  cut  to  interfere  with  another  feller's  luck.  Show 
me  your  deer." 

Jack  took  him  through  the  thickets  to  his  ambush. 
There  were  the  deer  still  feeding ;  the  old  one  lifting 
her  head  occasionally  as  if  on  the  lookout  for  danger. 
They  seemed  to  be  moving  slowly  along  the  slope. 

The  dark  eyes  of  the  strange  youth  kindled ;  then 
he  said,  with  a  low  laugh,  — 

"  I  'd  like  a  cut-bore  rifle  for  them  fellers !  You 
never  can  get  'em  with  that  popgun." 

"  I  believe  I  can  if  you  '11  help  me.  You  notice 
there  's  a  range  of  hills  between  us  and  them ;  and 
they  are  on  the  north  slope  of  one.  I  've  been  sur 
veying  a  little  of  the  country  off  south,  and  I  think 
you  can  get  around  the  range  that  way,  and  come  out 
beyond  the  deer,  before  they  see  you.  There 's  every 
thing  in  our  favor.  The  wind  blows  to  us  from  them. 
At  the  first  alarm  they  '11  start  for  the  woods ;  and 
they  '11  be  pretty  sure  to  keep  along  in  the  hollow. 
I  '11  watch  here,  and  take  them  as  they  come  in." 

Quid  and  head  rolled  again ;  and  the  strange  youth 
said  jeeringly,  with  one  eye  half  closed,  looking  at 
Jack,  — 

2*  c 


34  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

"  So  you  expect  me  to  travel  a  mile  or  two,  and 
drive  the  deer  in  for  you  ? "  He  then  pulled  down 
the  nether  lid  of  the  half-closed  eye,  and  inquired, 
somewhat  irrelevantly,  whether  Jack  saw  anything 
green  there.  "  Not  by  this  light ! "  he  answered  his 
own  question,  as  he  let  up  his  eyelid  and  snapped  his 
thumb  and  finger.  "Ye  can't  ketch  old  birds  with 
chaff.  I  've  been  through  the  lot.  Parley-voo  frong- 
say?" 

Jack  regarded  him  with  astonishment,  declaring 
that  there  was  no  catch  about  it.  "  Only  help  me, 
and  we  will  share  the  game  together." 

Still  the  fellow  demurred.  "  I  've  walked  my  legs 
off  to-day  already ;  you  '11  find  'em  back  in  the  road 
here  !  Had  nothing  to  eat  since  morning ;  wore  my 
self  down  lean  as  a  rail ;  felt  for  the  last  two  hours 
as  though  there  was  nothing  but  my  backbone  be 
tween  me  and  eternity  !  No,  sir-ree  !  I  would  n't 
walk  that  fur  out  of  my  way  for  a  herd  of  deer.  If 
I  had  a  horse  to  ride  I  would  n't  mind." 

Jack  was  greatly  excited.  He  had  never  yet  had 
a  good  shot  at  a  deer ;  and  if,  at  the  end  of  his  day's 
work,  he  could  carry  home  a  good  fat  doe,  and  per 
haps  a  fawn,  of  his  own  shooting,  it  would  be  a  tri 
umph.  So,  without  a  moment's  reflection,  he  said,— 

"  You  may  ride  mine.  Then,  if  you  don't  want  a 
share  of  the  game,  I  '11  pay  you  for  your  trouble." 

The  strange  youth  took  time  to  shift  his  quid  and 
balance  it ;  then  replied  in  a  manner  which  appeared 
provokingly  cool  to  the  fiery  Jack,  — 


A  DEER  HUNT,  AND   HOW  IT  ENDED.  35 

"  I  '11  look  at  him.    Does  lie  ride  easy  ? " 

"  Yes.     Hurry  ! " 

Jack  ran  down  to  the  horse,  led  him  into  the 
bushes,  where  the  wagon  could  be  left  concealed, 
and  had  already  taken  him  out  of  the  shafts,  before 
the  stranger  came  lounging  to  the  spot. 

"Pull  off  the  harness,"  said  the  latter,  with  the 
easy  air  of  ordering  a  nag  at  a  stable.  "And  give 
me  that  blanket  out  of  the  buggy.  I  don't  ride  bare 
back  for  nobody."  And  he  spat  reckless  tobacco- 
juice. 

Jack  complied,  though  angry  at  the  fellow  for  be 
ing  so  dilatory  and  fastidious  at  such  a  time.  The 
strange  youth  then  spread  his  coat  over  the  blanket, 
laid  his  right  hand  on  it,  and  his  left  on  bridle  and 
mane,  and  with  a  leap  from  the  ground  threw  him 
self  astride  the  horse,  —  a  display  of  agility  which 
took  Jack  by  surprise. 

"  I  see  you  have  been  on  horseback  before  ! " 

"  Never  in  my  life,"  said  the  stranger,  with  a  gleam 
in  his  dark  eyes  which  belied  his  words.  And  now 
Jack  noticed  that  he  had  a  little  switch  in  his  hand. 

"  He  won't  need  urging.  Be  sure  and  ride  well 
beyond  that  highest  hill  before  you  turn ;  and  then 
come  quietly  around,  so  as  not  to  frighten  the  deer 
too  much." 

The  fellow  laughed.  "  I  Ve  seen  a  deer  before  to 
day  ! "  And,  clapping  heels  to  the  horse's  sides,  he 
dashed  through  the  bushes. 

Jack  followed  a  little  way,  and  from  his  ambush 


36 


THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 


JACK  AND  THE  STRANGE  YOUTH. 


saw  him  come  out  of  the  undergrowth,  strike  across 
the  prairie,  and  disappear  around  the  range  of  hills. 

The  deer  were  still  in  sight,  stopping  occasionally 
to  feed,  and  then,  with  heads  in  air,  moving  a  few 
paces  along  the  slope.  Jack  waited  with  breathless 
anxiety  to  see  his  horseman  emerge  from  among  the 
hills  beyond.  Several  minutes  elapsed  ;  then,  though 
no  horseman  appeared,  the  old  deer,  startled  by 
sound  or  scent  of  the  enemy,  threw  high  her  head, 


A  DEER  HUNT,  AND  HOW  IT  ENDED.  37 

and  began  to  leap,  with  graceful,  undulating  move 
ments,  along  the  hillside. 

The  fawn  darted  after  her,  and  for  a  minute  they 
were  hidden  from  view  in  a  hollow.  The  stratagem 
had  so  far  succeeded.  They  had  started  toward  the 
woods. 

Jack,  in  an  ague  of  agitation,  waited  for  the  game 
to  show  itself  again,  and,  by  its  movements,  guide  his 
own.  At  length  the  fawn  appeared  on  the  summit 
of  a  low  hill,  and  stopped.  The  doe  came  up  and 
stopped  too,  with  elevated  nostrils,  snuffing.  For  a 
rifle,  in  approved  hands,  there  would  have  been  a 
chance  for  a  shot.  But  the  game  was  far  beyond  the 
range  of  Jack's  gun. 

To  try  his  nerve,  however,  he  took  aim,  or,  rather, 
attempted  to  take  aim.  His  hands  —  if  the  truth 
must  be  confessed  —  shook  so  that  he  could  not  keep 
his  piece  steady  for  an  instant.  Cool  fellow  enough 
on  ordinary  occasions,  he  now  had  a  violent  attack 
of  what  is  called  the  "  buck  fever." 

Fortunately,  the  deer  had  not  seen  the  horseman ; 
and,  while  they  were  recovering  from  their  first 
alarm,  they  gave  the  young  hunter  time  to  subdue, 
with  resolute  good  sense,  his  terrible  nervous  agita 
tion. 

They  did  not  stop  to  feed  any  more,  but  moved 
on,  with  occasional  pauses,  toward  the  woods;  fol 
lowing  the  line  of  the  hollows,  as  Jack  had  fore 
seen. 

All  this  time  the  dog  lay  whining  at  his  young 


38  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

master's  heels.  He  knew  instinctively  that  there  was 
sport  on  foot,  and  could  hardly  be  kept  quiet. 

The  deer  took  another  and  final  start,  and  came 
bounding  along  toward  the  spot  where  the  wagon 
had  stood.  But  for  the  excitement  of  the  moment, 
Jack  must  have  felt  a  touch  of  pity  at  sight  of 
those  two  slender,  beautiful  creatures,  so  full  of  life, 
making  for  their  covert  in  the  cool  woods.  But 
the  hunter's  spirit  was  uppermost.  He  took  aim  at 
the  doe,  followed  her  movements  a  moment  with  the 
moving  gun,  then  fired.  She  plunged  forward,  and 
dropped  dead. 

The  fawn,  confused  by  the  report  and  by  the  doe's 
sudden  fall,  stood  for  an  instant  quite  still,  then 
made  a  few  bounds  up  toward  the  veiy  spot  where 
the  young  hunter  was  concealed.  It  stopped  again, 
within  twenty  paces  of  the  levelled  gun.  There  it 
stood,  its  pretty  spotted  side  turned  toward  him,  so 
fair  a  mark,  and  so  charming  a  picture,  that  for  a 
moment,  excited  though  he  was,  he  could  not  have 
the  heart  to  shoot.  Ah !  what  is  this  spirit  of  de 
struction,  which  has  come  down  to  us  from  our  bar 
barous  forefathers,  and  which  gives  even  good-hearted 
boys  like  Jack  a  wild  joy  in  taking  life  ? 

The  dog,  rendered  ungovernable  by  the  firing  of 
the  gun,  made  a  noise  in  the  thicket.  The  fawn 
heard,  and  started  to  run  away.  The  provocation 
was  too  great  for  our  young  hunter,  and  he  sent 
a  charge  of  buck-shot  after  it.  The  fawn  did  not 
fall. 


A  DEER  HUNT,  AND   HOW  IT  ENDED.  39 

"  Take  'em,  Lion ! "  shouted  Jack ;  and  out  rushed 
the  dog. 

The  poor  thing  had  been  wounded,  and  the  dog 
soon  brought  it  down.  Jack  ran  after,  to  prevent  a 
tearing  of  the  hide  and  flesh.  Then  he  set  up  a  wild 
yell,  which  might  have  been  heard  a  mile  away  on 
the  prairie,  —  a  call  for  his  horseman,  who  had  not 
yet  reappeared. 

Jack  dragged  the  fawn  and  placed  it  beside  its 
dam.  There  lay  the  two  pretty  creatures,  slaughtered 
by  his  hand. 

"  It  can't  be  helped,"  thought  he.  "  If  it  is  right 
to  hunt  game,  it  is  right  to  kill  it.  If  we  eat  flesh, 
we  must  take  life." 

So  he  tried  to  feel  nothing  but  pure  triumph  at 
the  sight.  Yet  I  have  heard  him  say,  in  relating  the 
adventure,  that  he  could  never  afterwards  think  of 
the  dead  doe  and  pretty  fawn,  lying  there  side  by 
side,  without  a  pang. 

He  now  backed  his  buggy  out  of  the  woods,  set 
the  seat  forward  in  order  to  make  room  for  the  deer 
behind,  and  waited  for  his  horse. 

"  Where  can  that  fellow  have  gone  ? "  he  muttered, 
with  growing  anxiety. 

He  went  to  a  hill-top,  to  get  a  good  view,  and 
strained  his  vision,  gazing  over  the  prairie.  The  sun 
was  almost  set,  and  all  the  hills  were  darkening,  save 
now  and  then  one  of  the  highest  summits. 

Over  one  of  these  Jack  suddenly  descried  a  distant 
object  moving.  It  was  no  deer  this  time,  but  a  horse 


40  THE  YOUNG   SURVEYOR. 

and  rider  far  away,  and  going  at  a  gallop  —  in  the 
wrong  direction. 

He  gazed  until  they  disappeared  over  the  crest, 
and  the  faint  sundown  glory  faded  from  it,  and  he 
felt  the  lonesome  night  shutting  down  over  the  limit 
less  expanse.  Then  he  smote  his  hands  together 
with  fury  and  despair. 

He  knew  that  the  horse  was  his  own,  and  the  rider 
the  strange  youth  in  whose  hands  he  had  so  rashly 
intrusted  him.  And  here  he  was,  five  miles  from 
home,  with  the  darkening  forest  on  one  side,  and  the 
vast  prairie  on  the  other;  the  dead  doe  and  fawn 
lying  down  there  on  the  dewy  grass,  the  empty 
buggy  and  harness  beside  them ;  and  only  his  dog  to 
keep  him  company. 


THE  BOY  WITH  ONE  SUSPENDER.        41 


CHAPTER   V. 

THE  BOY  WITH  ONE  SUSPENDER. 

JACK'S  first  thought,  after  assuring  himself  that  his 
horse  was  irrevocably  gone,  was  to  run  for  help  to 
the  line  of  settlements  on  the  other  side  of  the  grove, 
where  some  means  of  pursuit  might  be  obtained. 

He  knew  that  the  road  which  Mr.  Wiggett  had  de 
scribed  could  not  be  much  beyond  the  hollow  where 
his  wagon  was ;  and,  dashing  forward,  he  soon  found 
it.  Then,  stopping  to  give  a  last  despairing  look  at 
the  billowy  line  of  prairie  over  which  his  horse  had 
disappeared,  he  started  to  run  through  the  woods. 

He  had  not  gone  far  when  he  heard  a  cow-bell  rat 
tle,  and  the  voice  of  a  boy  shouting.  He  paused  to 
take  breath  and  listen ;  and  presently  with  a  crashing 
of  bushes  three  or  four  horned  cattle  came  pushing 
their  way  through  the  undergrowth,  into  the  open 
road,  followed  by  a  lad  without  a  jacket,  with  one 
suspender  and  a  long  switch. 

"  Boy,"  Jack  cried,  "  how  far  is  it  to  the  nearest 
house  ? " 

"  Our  house  is  jest  down  through  the  woods  here," 
replied  the  boy,  stopping  to  stare. 

"  How  far  is  that  ? " 

"  Not  quite  so  far  as  it  is  to  Peakslow's  house." 


42  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR 

"  Where  is  Peakslow's  house  ? " 

"  Next  house  to  ours,  down  the  river." 

Seeing  that  this  line  of  questions  was  not  likely  to 
lead  to  anything  very  satisfactory,  Jack  asked,  — 

"  Can  I  get  a  horse  of  anybody  in  your  neighbor 
hood,  —  a  good  fast  horse  to  ride  ? " 

The  boy  whipped  a  bush  with  his  switch,  and  re 
plied,  — 

"  There  ain't  any  good  horses  around  here,  'thout 
'tis  Peakslow's;  but  one  of  his  has  got  the  spring 
halt,  and  t'  other 's  got  the  blind  staggers ;  and  he 's 
too  mean  to  lend  his  horses ;  and;  besides,  he  went  to 
Chicago  with  'em  both  this  morning." 

Jack  did  not  stop  to  question  the  probability  of  a 
span  thus  afflicted  being  driven  on  so  long  a  journey ; 
but  asked  if  Mr.  "Wiggett  had  horses. 

"  No  —  yes.  I  believe  his  horses  are  all  oxen," 
replied  the  boy;  "not  very  fast  or  good  to  ride 
either." 

Thereupon  Jack,  losing  all  patience,  cried  out,  — 

"  Is  n't  there  a  decent  nag  to  be  had  in  this  re 
gion  ? " 

"  Who  said  there  was  n't  ? "  retorted  the  boy. 

"  Where  is  there  one  ? " 

"  We  Ve  got  one." 

"  A  horse  ? " 

"  No ;  a  mare." 

"  Why  did  n't  you  tell  me  before  ? " 

"  'Cause  you  asked  for  horses ;  you  did  n't  say  any 
thing  about  mares." 


THE  BOY  WITH  ONE  SUSPENDER.        43 

"  Is  she  good  to  ride  ? " 

"  Pretty  good,  —  though  if  you  make  her  go  much 
faster  'n  she  takes  a  notion  to,  she 's  got  the  heaves 
so  folks  '11  think  there  's  a  small  volcano  com 
ing!" 

"  How  fast  will  she  go  ? " 

"  As  fast  as  a  good  slow  walk ;  that 's  her  style," 
said  the  boy,  and  whipped  the  bushes.  "  But,  come 
to  think,  father 's  away  from  home,  and  you  '11  have 
to  wait  till  to-morrow  night  before  you  can  see  him, 
and  get  him  to  let  you  take  her." 

"  Boy,"  said  Jack,  tired  of  the  lad's  tone  of  levity, 
and  thinking  to  interest  him  by  a  statement  of  the 
facts  in  the  case,  "  I  Ve  been  hunting,  and  a  rascal 
I  trusted  with  my  horse  has  run  off  with  him,  and  I 
have  a  harness  and  a  buggy  and  a  couple  of  dead 
deer  out  there  on  the  prairie." 

"  Deer  ? "  echoed  the  lad,  pricking  up  his  ears  at 
once.  "  Did  you  shoot  'em  ?  "Where  ?  Can  I  go 
and  see  'em  ? " 

Jack  was  beginning  to  see  the  hopelessness  of  pur 
suing  the  horse-thief  that  night,  or  with  any  help  to 
to  be  had  in  that  region ;  and  he  now  turned  his 
thoughts  to  getting  the  buggy  home. 

"  Yes,  boy ;  come  with  me,"  he  said. 

The  boy  shouted  and  switched  his  stick  at  the 
cattle  browsing  by  the  wayside,  and  started  them  on 
a  smart  trot  down  the  road,  then  hastened  with  Jack 
to  the  spot  where  the  wagon  and  game  had  been  left, 
guarded  by  Lion. 


44  THE  YOUNG   SURVEYOR. 

But  Jack  had  another  object  in  view  than  simply 
to  gratify  the  lad's  curiosity. 

"  If  you  will  hold  up  the  shafts  and  pull  a  little, 
I  '11  push  behind,  and  we  can  take  the  buggy  through 
the  woods.  After  we  get  it  up  out  of  this  hollow, 
and  well  into  the  road,  it  will  be  down-lull  the  rest 
of  the  way." 

"  You  want  to  make  a  horse  of  me,  do  ye  ?  "  cried 
the  boy.  "  I  was  n't  born  in  a  stable  ! " 

"  Neither  was  I,"  said  Jack.  "  But  I  don't  object 
to  doing  a  horse's  work.  I  '11  pull  in  the  shafts." 

"  0  good  ! "  screamed  the  boy,  making  his  switch 
whistle  about  his  head.  "  And  I  '11  get  on  the  seat 
and  drive  ! "  And  he  made  a  spring  at  the  wagon. 

But  Lion  had  something  to  say  about  that.  Hav 
ing  been  placed  on  guard,  and  not  yet  relieved,  he 
would  permit  no  hand  but  his  master's  to  touch  any 
thing  in  his  charge.  A  frightful  growl  made  the  boy 
recoil  and  go  backwards  over  the  dead  deer. 

"  Here,  Lion  !  down  with  you  ! "  cried  Jack,  as  the 
excited  dog  was  pouncing  on  the  supposed  intruder. 

The  boy  scrambled  to  his  feet,  and  was  starting  to 
run  away,  in  great  terror,  when  Jack,  fearing  to  lose 
him,  called  out,  — 

"  Don't  run  !  He  may  chase  you  if  you  do.  Now 
he  knows  you  are  my  friend,  you  are  safe,  only  stay 
where  you  are." 

"  Blast  his  pictur' !  "  exclaimed  the  boy.  "  He  's 
a  perfect  cannibal !  What  does  anybody  want  to 
keep  such  a  savage  critter  as  that  for  ? " 


THE  BOY  WITH  ONE  SUSPENDEB.        45 

"  I  had  told  him  to  watch.  Now  he  is  all  right. 
Come  ! " 

"  Me  ?  Travel  with  that  dog  ?  I  would  n't  go 
with  him,"  the  boy  declared,  meaning  to  make  the 
strongest  possible  statement,  "  if  't  was  a  million 


UP-HILL  WORK. 


miles,  and  the  road  was  full  of  sugar-candy ! "    And 
he  backed  off  warily. 

Jack  got  over  the  difficulty  by  sending  the  dog 


46  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

on  before ;  and  finally,  by  an  offer  of  money  which 
would  purchase  a  reasonable  amount  of  sugar-candy, 
—  enough  to  pave  the  short  road  to  happiness,  for  a 
boy  of  thirteen,  —  induced  him  to  help  lift  the  deer 
into  the  buggy,  and  then  to  go  behind  and  push. 

They  had  hard  work  at  first,  getting  the  wagon  up 
out  of  the  hollow ;  and  the  boy,  when  they  reached 
at  last  the  top  of  the  hill,  and  stopped  to  rest,  de 
clared  that  there  was  n't  half  the  fun  in  it  there  was 
in  going  a  fishing  ;  the  justice  of  which  remark  Jack 
did  not  question.  But  after  that  the  way  was  com 
paratively  easy ;  and  with  Jack  pulling  in  the  shafts, 
his  new  acquaintance  pushing  in  the  rear,  and  Lion 
trotting  on  before,  the  buggy  went  rattling  down  the 
woodland  road  in  lively  fashion. 


"LOKD  BETTERSON'S."  47 


CHAPTER   YI. 

"LORD  BETTERSON'S." 

ON  a  sort  of  headland  jutting  out  from  the  high 
timber  region  into  the  low  prairie  of  the  river  bottom, 
stood  a  house,  known  far  and  near  as  "  Lord  Better- 
son's,"  or,  as  it  was  sometimes  derisively  called, "  Lord 
Betterson's  Castle,"  the  house  being  about  as  much 
a  castle  as  the  owner  was  a  lord. 

The  main  road  of  the  settlement  ran  between  it 
and  the  woods ;  while  on  the  side  of  the  river  the 
land  swept  down  in  a  lovely  slope  to  the  valley, 
which  flowed  away  in  a  wider  and  more  magnificent 
stream  of  living  green.  It  was  really  a  fine  site, 
shaded  by  five  or  six  young  oaks  left  standing  in 
the  spacious  door-yard. 

The  trouble  was,  that  the  house  had  been  projected 
on  somewhat  too  grand  a  scale  for  the  time  and  coun 
try  and,  what  was  worse,  for  the  owner's  resources. 
He  had  never  been  able  to  finish  it;  and  now  its 
weather-browned  clapboards,  unpainted  front  pillars, 
and  general  shabby,  ill-kept  appearance,  set  off  the 
style  of  architecture  in  a  way  to  make  beholders  smile. 

"Lord  Betterson  took  a  bigger  mouthful  than  he 
could  swaller,  when  he  sot  out  to  build  his  castle 
here,"  said  his  neighbor,  Peakslow. 


48  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

The  proprietor's  name  —  it  may  as  well  be  ex 
plained —  was  Elisha  Lord  Betterson.  It  was  thus 
he  always  wrote  it,  in  a  large  round  hand,  with  a 
bold  flourish.  Now  the  common  people  never  will 
submit  to  call  a  man  Elisha.  The  furthest  they  can 
possibly  go  will  be  'Lisha,  or  'Lishy  ;  and,  ten  to  one, 
the  tendency  to  monosyllables  will  result  in  'Lishe. 
There  had  been  a  feeble  attempt  among  the  vulgar  to 
familiarize  the  public  mind  with  'Lishe  Betterson;  but 
the  name  would  not  stick  to  a  person  of  so  much 
dignity  of  character.  It  was  useless  to  argue  that  his 
dignity  was  mere  pomposity ;  or  that  a  man  who,  in 
building  a  fine  house,  broke  down  before  he  got  the 
priming  on,  was  unworthy  of  respect ;  still  no  one 
could  look  at  him,  or  call  up  his  image,  and  say, 
conscientiously,  "  'Lishe  Betterson."  He  who,  in  this 
unsettled  state  of  things,  taking  a  hint  from  the 
middle  name,  pronounced  boldly  aloud,  "  LORD  BET 
TERSON,"  was  a  public  benefactor.  "  Lord  Betterson  " 
and  "  Lord  Betterson's  Castle  "  had  been  popular  ever 
since. 

The  house,  with  its  door-posts  of  unpainted  pine 
darkly  soiled  by  the  contact  of  unwashed  childish 
hands,  and  its  unfinished  rooms,  some  of  them  lathed, 
but  unplastered  (showing  just  the  point  at  which  the 
owner's  resources  failed),  looked  even  more  shabby 
within  than  without. 

This  may  have  been  partly  because  the  house 
keeper  was  sick.  She  must  have  been  sick,  if  that 
was  she,  the  pale,  drooping  figure,  sitting  wrapped  in 


"LORD  BETTERSON'S.' 


49 


"LORD  BETTERSON." 

an  old  red  shawl,  that  summer  afternoon.  She  looked 
not  only  sick,  but  exceedingly  discouraged.  And  no 
wonder. 

At  her  right  hand  was  an  empty  cradle ;  and  she 
held  a  puny  infant  in  her  arms,  trying  to  still  its 
cries.  At  her  left  was  a  lounge,  on  which  lay  the 
helpless  form  of  an  invalid  child,  a  girl  about  eleven 
years  old.  The  room  was  comfortless.  An  old,  high- 
colored  piece  of  carpeting  half  covered  the  rough 
floor ;  its  originally  gaudy  pattern,  out  of  which  all 


50  THE   YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

but  the  red  had  faded,  bearing  witness  to  some  past 
stage  of  family  gentility,  and  serving  to  set  off  the 
surrounding  wretchedness. 

Tipped  back  in  a  chair  against  the  rough  and 
broken  laths,  his  knees  as  high  as  his  chin,  was  a 
big  slovenly  boy  of  about  seventeen,  looking  lazily 
out  from  under  an  old  ragged  hat-rim,  pushed  over 
his  eyes.  Another  big,  slovenly  boy,  a  year  or  two 
younger,  sat  on  the  doorstep,  whittling  quite  as 
much  for  his  own  amusement  as  for  that  of  a  little 
five-year-old  ragamuffin  outside. 

Not  much  comfort  for  the  poor  woman  and  the 
sick  girl  shone  from  these  two  indifferent  faces.  In 
deed,  the  only  ray  of  good  cheer  visible  in  that  dis 
orderly  room  gleamed  from  the  bright  eyes  of  a  little 
girl  not  more  than  nine  or  ten  years  old,  —  so  small, 
in  truth,  that  she  had  to  stand  on  a  stool  by  the 
table,  where  she  was  washing  a  pan  of  dishes. 

"  0  boys  ! "  said  the  woman  in  a  feeble,  complain 
ing  tone,  "  do,  one  of  you,  go  to  the  spring  and  bring 
some  fresh  water  for  your  poor,  sick  sister." 

"  It 's  Eufe's  turn  to  go  for  water,"  said  the  boy  on 
the  doorstep. 

"  'T  ain't  my  turn,  either,"  muttered  the  boy  tipped 
back  against  the  laths.  "  Besides,  I  Ve  got  to  milk 
the  cow  soon  as  Link  brings  the  cattle  home.  Hear 
the  bell  yet,  Wad  ? " 

"  Never  mind,  Cecie ! "  cried  the  little  dish-washer, 
cheerily.  "I  '11  bring  you  some  water  as  soon  as 
I  have  done  these  dishes."  And,  holding  her  wet 


"LORD  BETTERSON'S."  51 

hands  behind  her,  she  ran  to  give  the  young  invalid 
a  kiss  in  the  mean  while. 

Cecie  returned  a  warm  smile  of  love  and  thanks, 
and  said  she  was  in  no  hurry.  Then  the  child,  stop 
ping  only  to  give  a  bright  look  and  a  pleasant  word 
to  the  baby,  ran  back  to  her  dishes. 

"  I  should  think  you  would  be  ashamed,  you  two 
great  boys  ! "  said  the  woman,  "  to  sit  round  the  house 
and  let  that  child  Lilian  wait  upon  you,  get  your 
suppers,  wash  your  dishes,  and  then  go  to  the  spring 
for  water  for  your  poor  suffering  sister ! " 

"  I  'm  going  to  petition  the  Legislature,"  said  Wad, 
"  to  have  that  spring  moved  up  into  our  back  yard  ; 
it 's  too  far  to  go  for  water.  There  come  the  cattle, 
Eufe." 

"Tell  Chokie  to  go  and  head  'em  into  the  barn 
yard,"  yawned  Eufe,  from  his  chair.  "  I  wonder  no 
body  ever  invented  a  milking-machine.  Wish  I  had 
one.  Just  turn  a  crank,  you  know." 

"  You  '11  be  wanting  a  machine  to  breathe  with, 
next,"  said  the  little  dish-washer. 

"  Y-a-as,"  drawled  Eufe.  "  I  think  a  breathing 
machine  would  be  popular  in  this  family.  Children 
cry  for  it.  Get  me  the  milk-pail,  Till ;  that 's  a  nice 
girl!" 

"Do  get  it  yourself,  Eufus,"  said  the  mother. 
"You  11  want  your  little  sister  to  milk  for  you, 
soon." 

"I  think  it  belongs  to  girls  to  milk,"  said  Eufe. 
"  There 's  Sal  Wiggett,  —  ain't  she  smart  at  it, 


52  THE  YOUNG   SURVEYOR. 

though  ?  She  can  milk  your  head  off !  Is  that  a 
wagon  coming,  Wad  ?  " 

"  Yes  !"  cried  Wad,  jumping  to  his  feet  with  un 
usual  alacrity.  "  A  wagon  without  a  horse,  a  fellow 
pulling  in  the  shafts,  and  Link  pushing  behind ; 
coming  right  into  the  front  yard ! " 

Rufe  also  started  up  at  this  announcement,  and 
went  to  the  door. 

"Hallo!"  he  said,  "had  a  break-down?  What's 
that  in  the  hind  part  of  your  wagon  ?  Deer !  a  deer 
and  a  fawn  !  Where  did  you  shoot  'em  ?  Where 's 
your-  horse  ?  " 

"  Look  out,  Rufe ! "  screamed  the  small  boy  from 
behind,  rushing  forward.  "  Touch  one  of  these  deer, 
and  the  dog  '11  have  ye !  We  've  got  two  deer,  but 
we ' ve  lost  our  horse,  —  scamp  rode  him  away,  —  and 
we  want  — 

"  We  do,  do  we  ? "  interrupted  Wad,  mockingly. 
"  How  many  deer  did  you  shoot,  Link  ? " 

"  Well,  I  helped  get  the  buggy  over,  anyway  ! 
And  that 's  the  savagest  dog  ever  was  !  And  —  say  ! 
will  mother  let  us  take  the  old  mare  to  drive  over  to 
North  Mills  this  evening  ? " 


JACK  AT  THE  "CASTLE."  53 


CHAPTER    VII. 

JACK  AT  THE  "CASTLE." 

FOR  an  answer  to  this  question,  the  person  most 
interested  in  it,  who  had  as  yet  said  least,  was 
shown  into  the  house.  Eufe  and  Wad  and  Link 
and  little  Chokie  came  crowding  in  after  him,  all 
eager  to  hear  him  talk  of  the  adventure. 

"  And,  0  ma  I "  cried  Link,  after  Jack  had  briefly 
told  his  story,  "he  says  he  will  give  us  the  fawn, 
and  pay  me  besides,  if  I  will  go  with  him  to 
night,  and  bring  back  the  old  mare  in  the  morn 
ing." 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  the  woman,  wrapping  her 
red  shawl  more  closely  about  her,  to  conceal  from 
the  stranger  her  untidy  attire.  "I  suppose,  if  Mr. 
Betterson  was  at  home,  he  would  let  you  take  the 
mare.  But  you  know,  Lincoln,"  —  turning  with  a 
reproachful  look  to  the  small  boy,  — "  you  have 
never  been  brought  up  to  take  money  for  little 
services.  Such  things  are  not  becoming  in  a  family 
like  ours." 

And  in  the  midst  of  her  distress  she  put  on  a 
complacent  smirk,  straightened  her  emaciated  form, 
and  sat  there,  looking  like  the  very  ghost  of  pride, 
wrapped  in  an  old  red  shawl 


54  THE  YOUNG   SURVEYOR. 

"  Did  you  speak  of  Mr.  Betterson  ? "  Jack  in 
quired,  interested. 

"That  is  my  husband's  name." 

"Elisha  L.  Betterson?" 

"  Certainly.  You  know  my  husband  ?  He  be 
longs  to  the  Philadelphia  Bettersons,  —  a  very- 
wealthy  and  influential  family,"  said  the  woman 
Avith  a  simper.  "Very  wealthy  and  influential." 

"  I  have  heard  of  your  husband,"  said  Jack. 
"If  I  am  not  mistaken,  you  are  Mrs.  Caroline 
Betterson,  —  a  sister  of  Vinnie  Dalton,  sometimes 
called  Vinnie  Presbit." 

"  You  know  my  sister  Lavinia  ! "  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Betterson,  surprised,  but  not  overjoyed.  "And  you 
know  Mr.  Presbit's  people  ? " 

"I  have  never  seen  them,"  replied  Jack,  "but  I 
almost  feel  as  if  I  had,  I  have  heard  so  much  about 
them.  I  was  with  Vinnie's  foster-brother,  George 
Greenwood,  in  New  York,  last  summer,  when  he 
was  sick,  and  she  went  down  to  take  care  of  him." 

"And  I  presume,"  returned  Mrs.  Betterson,  taking 
another  reef  in  her  shawl,  "  that  you  heard  her  tell  a 
good  deal  about  us  ;  things  that  would  no  doubt  tend 
to  prejudice  a  stranger ;  though  if  all  the  truth  was 
known  she  would  n't  feel  so  hard  towards  us  as  I 
have  reason  to  think  she  does." 

Jack  hastened  to  say  that  he  had  never  heard 
Vinnie  speak  unkindly  of  her  sister. 

"  You  are  very  polite  to  say  so,"  said  Mrs.  Better- 
son,  rocking  the  cradle,  in  which  the  baby  had  been 


JACK  AT  THE  "CASTLE."  55 

placed.  "But  I  know  just  what  she  has  said.  She 
has  told  you  that  after  I  married  Mr.  Betterson  I 
felt  above  my  family  ;  and  that  when  her  mother 
died  (she  was  not  my  mother,  you  know,  —  we  are 
only  half-sisters),  I  suffered  her  to  be  taken  and 
brought  up  by  the  Presbits,  when  I  ought  to  have 
taken  her  and  been  as  a  mother  to  her,  —  she  was 
so  much  younger  than  I.  She  is  even  younger  by 
a  month  or  two  than  my  oldest  son ;  and  we  have 
joked  a  good  deal  about  his  having  an  aunt  younger 
than  he  is." 

"  Yes,"  spoke  up  Eufe,  standing  in  the  door ;  "  and 
I  Ve  asked  a  hundred  times  why  we  don't  ever  hear 
from  her,  or  write  to  her,  or  have  her  visit  us.  Other 
folks  have  their  aunts  come  and  see  'em.  But  all 
the  answer  I  could  ever  get  was,  'family  reasons, 
Eufus  ! ' " 

"That  is  it,  in  a  word,"  said  Mrs.  Betterson; 
"  family  reasons.  I  never  could  explain  them  ;  so  I 
have  never  written  to  poor,  dear  Lavmia  —  though, 
Heaven  knows,  I  should  be  glad  enough  to  see  her ; 
and  I  hope  she  has  forgiven  what  seemed  my  hard 
ness  ;  and  —  do  tell  me  "  (Mrs.  Betterson  wiped  her 
eyes)  "  what  sort  of  a  girl  is  she  ?  how  has  she 
come  up  ? " 

"She  is  one  of  the  kindest-hearted,  most  unself 
ish,  beautiful  girls  in  the  world ! "  Jack  exclaimed. 
"I  mean,  beautiful  in  her  spirit,"  he  added,  blush 
ing  at  his  own  enthusiasm. 

"  The  Presbits  are  rather   coarse   people  to  bring 


56  THE  YOUNG  SUEVEYOR. 

up  such  a  girl,"  said  Mrs.  Betterson,  with  a  sigh  — 
of  self-reproach,  Jack  thought. 

"  But  she  has  a  natural  refinement  which  noth 
ing  could  make  her  lose,"  he  replied.  "  Then,  it 
was  a  good  thing  for  her  to  be  brought  up  with 
George  Greenwood.  She  owes  a  great  deal  to  the 
love  of  books  he  inspired  in  her.  You  ought  to 
know  your  sister,  Mrs.  Betterson." 

The  lady  gave  way  to  a  flood  of  tears. 

"  It  is  too  bad  !  such  separations  are  unnatural. 
Certainly,"  she  went  on,  "  I  can't  be  accused  of 
feeling  above  my  family  now.  Mr.  Betterson  has 
had  three  legacies  left  him,  two  since  our  marriage ; 
but  he  has  been  exceedingly  unfortunate." 

"  Two  such  able-bodied  boys  must  be  a  help  and 
comfort  to  you,"  said  Jack 

"  Rufus  and  Wadleigh,"  said  Mrs.  Betterson,  "  are 
good  boys,  but  they  have  been  brought  up  to  dreams 
of  wealth,  and  they  have  not  learned  to  take  hold 
of  life  with  rough  hands." 

Jack  suggested  that  it  might  have  been  better 
for  them  not  to  have  such  dreams. 

"Yes  —  if  our  family  is  to  be  brought  down  to 
the  common  level.  But  I  can't  forget,  I  can't  wish 
them  ever  to  forget,  that  they  have  Betterson  blood 
in  their  veins." 

Jack  could  hardly  repress  a  smile  as  he  glanced 
from  those  stout  heirs  of  the  Betterson  blood  to  the 
evidences  of  shiftlessness  and  wretchedness  around 
them,  which  two  such  sturdy  lads,  with  a  little  less 


JACK  AT  THE  "CASTLE."  57 

of  the  precious  article  in  their  veins,  might  have 
done  something  to  remedy. 

But  his  own  unlucky  adventure  absorbed  his 
thoughts,  and  he  was  glad  when  Link  vociferously 
demanded  if  he  was  to  go  and  catch  the  mare. 

"  Yes !  yes  !  do  anything  but  kill  me  with  that 
dreadful  voice ! "  replied  the  mother,  waving  him 
off  with  her  trembling  hand.  "  Don't  infer  from 
what  I  have  said,"  she  resumed,  gathering  herself 
up  again  with  feeble  pride,  "  that  we  are  poor.  Mr. 
Betterson  will  come  into  a  large  fortune  when  an. 
uncle  of  his  dies ;  and  he  gets  help  from  him  oc 
casionally  now.  Not  enough,  however,  to  enable 
him  to  carry  on  a  farm ;  and  it  requires  capital, 
you  are  aware,  to  make  agriculture  a  respectable 
profession." 

Jack  could  not  forbear  another  hit  at  the  big  boys. 

"  It  requires  land,"  he  said ;  "  and  that  you  have. 
It  also  requires  bone  and  muscle;  and  I  see  some 
here." 

"  True,"  simpered  Mrs.  Betterson.  "  But  their 
father  has  n't  encouraged  them  very  much  in  doing 
the  needful  labors  of  the  farm." 

"  He  has  n't  set  us  the  example,"  broke  in  Eufe, 
piqued  by  Jack's  remark.  "  If  he  had  taken  hold 
of  work,  I  suppose  we  should.  But  while  he  sits 
down  and  waits  for  something  or  somebody  to 
come  along  and  help  him,  what  can  you  expect  of 
us  ?" 

"Our  Betterson  blood  shows  itself  in  more  ways 

3* 


58  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

than  one ! "  said  Wad  with  a  grin,  illustrating  his 
remark  by  lazily  seating  himself  once  more  on  the 
doorstep. 

Evidently  the  boys  were  sick  of  hearing  their 
mother  boast  of  the  aristocratic  family  connection. 
She  made  haste  to  change  the  subject. 

"  Sickness  has  been  our  great  scourge.  The 
climate  has  never  agreed  with  either  me  or  my 
husband.  Then  our  poor  Cecilia  met  with  an  ac 
cident  a  year  ago,  which  injured  her  so  that  she 
has  scarcely  taken  a  step  since." 

"  An  accident  done  a-purpose ! "  spoke  up  Eufe, 
angrily.  "  Zeph  Peakslow  threw  her  out  of  a  swing, 
—  the  meanest  trick  !  They  're  the  meanest  family 
in  the  world,  and  there  's  a  war  between  us.  I  'm 
only  waiting  my  chance  to  pay  off  that  Zeph." 

"  Rufus ! "  pleaded  the  little  invalid  from  the 
lounge,  "you  know  he  could  never  have  meant  to 
hurt  me  so  much.  Don't  talk  of  paying  him  off, 
Rufus!" 

"  Cecie  is  so  patient  under  it  all ! "  said  Mrs.  Bet- 
terson.  "  She  never  utters  a  word  of  complaint. 
Yet  she  doesn't  have  the  care  she  ought  to  have. 
With  my  sick  baby,  and  my  own  aches  and  pains, 
what  can  I  do  ?  There  are  no  decent  house-servants 
to  be  had,  for  love  or  money.  O,  what  would  n't  I 
give  for  a  good,  neat,  intelligent,  sympathizing  girl ! 
Our  little  Lilian,  here,  —  poor  child  !  —  is  all  the 
help  I  have." 

At   that  moment    the  bright    little   dish-washer, 


JACK  AT  THE  "CASTLE."  59 

having  put  away  the  supper  things,  and  gone  to  the 
spring  for  water,  came  lugging  in  a  small  but  brim 
ming  paiL 

"  It  is  too  bad ! "  replied  Jack.  "  You  should  have 
help  about  the  hard  work,"  with  another  meaning 
glance  at  the  boys. 

"  Yes,"  said  Eufe,  "  we  ought  to ;  and  we  did  have 
Sal  Wiggett  a  little  while  this  summer.  But  she 

oo 

had  never  seen  the  inside  of  a  decent  house  before. 
About  all  she  was  good  for  was  to  split  wood  and 
milk  the  cow." 

"  0,  how  good  this  is  ! "  said  the  invalid,  drinking. 
"I  was  so  thirsty!  Bless  you,  dear  lill!  What 
should  we  do  without  you?" 

Jack  rose  to  his  feet,  hardly  repressing  his  indig 
nation. 

"  Would  you  like  a  drink,  sir  ? "  said  Lill,  taking 
a  fresh  cupful  from  her  pail,  and  looking  up  at  him 
with  a  bright  smile. 

"  Thank  you,  I  should  very  much !  But  I  can't 
bear  the  thought  of  your  lugging  water  from  the 
spring  for  me." 

"Why,  Lilie!"  said  Cecie,  softly,  "you  should 
have  offered  it  to  him  first." 

"  I  thought  I  did  right  to  offer  it  to  my  sick  sis 
ter  first,"  replied  Lill,  with  a  tender  glance  at  the 
lounge. 

"  You  did  right,  my  good  little  girl ! "  exclaimed 
Jack,  giving  back  the  cup.  He  looked  from  one  to 
the  other  of  the  big  boys,  and  wondered  how  they 


60  THE  YOUNG   SURVEYOR. 

could  witness  this  scene  and  not  be  touched  by  it. 
But  he  only  said,  "  Have  these  young  men  too  much 
Betterson  blood  in  them  to  dress  the  fawn,  if  I  leave 
it  with  you  ?  " 

"  We  '11  fall  back  on  our  Dalton  blood  long  enough 
for  that,"  said  Wad,  taking  the  sarcasm  in  good 
part. 

"A  little  young  venison  will  do  Cecie  so  much 
good  ! "  said  Mrs.  Betterson.  "  You  are  very  kind. 
But  don't  infer  that  we  consider  the  Dalton  blood 
inferior.  I  was  pleased  with  what  you  said  of  La- 
vinia's  native  refinement.  I  feel  as  if,  after  all,  she 
was  a  sister  to  be  proud  of." 

At  this  last  display  of  pitiful  vanity  Jack  turned 
away. 

"The  idea  of  such  a  woman  concluding  that  she 
may  be  proud  of  a  sister  like  Vinnie ! "  thought  he. 

But  he  spoke  only  to  say  good  by ;  for  just  then 
Link  came  riding  the  mare  to  the  door. 

She  was  quickly  harnessed  to  the  buggy,  while 
Link,  at  his  mother's  entreaty,  put  on  a  coat,  and 
made  himself  look  as  decent  as  possible.  Then  Jack 
drove  away,  promising  ^that  Link,  who  accompanied 
him,  should  bring  the  mare  back  in  the  morning. 

"  Mother,"  said  the  thoughtful  Lill,  "  we  ought  to 
have  got  him  some  supper." 

"  I  thought  of  it,"  said  the  sick  woman,  "  but  you 
know  we  have  nothing  fit  to  set  before  him." 

"He  won't  famish,"  said  Kufe,  "with  the  large 
supply  of  sauce  which  he  keeps  on  hand !  Mother, 


JACK  AT  THE   "CASTLE."  61 

I  wish  you  wouldn't  ever  speak  of  our  Betterson 
blood  again ;  it  only  makes  us  ridiculous." 

Thereupon  Mrs.  Betterson  burst  into  tears,  com 
plaining  that  her  own  children  turned  against  her. 

"  0,  bah ! "  exclaimed  Kufe,  with  disgust,  stalking 
out  of  the  room,  banging  a  milk -pail,  and  waking  the 
baby.  "  Be  sharpening  the  knives,  Wad,  while  I 
milk ;  then  we  '11  dress  that  fawn  in  a  hurry.  Wish 
the  fellow  had  left  us  the  doe  instead." 


62  THE   YOUNG   SUEVEYOE. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

HOW  VINNIE  MADE  A  JOURNEY. 

LEAVING  Jack  to  drive  home  the  borrowed  mare  in 
the  harness  of  the  stolen  horse,  and  to  take  such 
measures  as  he  can  for  the  pursuit  of  the  thief  and 
the  recovery  of  his  property,  we  have  now  to  say  a 
few  words  of  Mrs.  Betterson's  younger  sister. 

Vinnie  had  perhaps  thriven  quite  as  well  in  the 
plain  Presbit  household  as  she  would  have  done  in 
the  home  of  the  ambitious  Caroline.  The  tasks  early 
put  upon  her,  instead  of  hardening  and  imbittering 
her,  had  made  her  self-reliant,  helpful,  and  strong, 
with  a  grace  like  that  acquired  by  girls  who  carry 
burdens  on  their  heads.  For  it  is  thus  that  labors 
cheerfully  performed,  and  trials  borne  with  good-will 
and  lightness  of  heart,  give  a  power  and  a  charm  to 
body  and  mind. 

It  was  now  more  than  a  year  since  George  Green 
wood,  who  had  been  brought  up  with  her  in  his 
uncle's  family,  had  left  the  farm,  and  gone  to  seek 
his  fortune  in  the  city.  A  great  change  in  the 
house,  and  a  very  unhappy  change  for  Vinnie,  had 
been  the  result.  It  was  not  that  she  missed  her 
foster-brother  so  much ;  but  his  going  out  had  oc 
casioned  the  coming  in  of  another  nephew,  who 


HOW  VINNIE   MADE   A  JOURNEY.  63 

brought  a  young  wife  with  him.  The  nephew  filled 
George's  place  on  the  farm,  and  the  young  wife 
showed  a  strong  determination  to  take  Vinnie's 
place  in  the  household. 

As  long  as  she  was  conscious  of  being  useful,  in 
however  humble  a  sphere,  Vinnie  was  contented. 
She  did  her  daily  outward  duty,  and  fed  her  heart 
with  secret  aspirations,  and  kept  a  brave,  bright 
spirit  through  all  But  now  nothing  was  left  to  her 
but  to  contend  for  her  rights  with  the  new-comer,  or 
to  act  the  submissive  part  of  drudge  where  she  had 
almost  ruled  before.  Strife  was  hateful  to  her ;  and 
why  should  she  remain  where  her  services  were  now 
scarcely  needed  ? 

So  Vinnie  lapsed  into  an  unsettled  state  of  mind, 
common  enough  to  a  certain  class  of  girls  of  her  age, 
as  well  as  to  a  larger  class  of  boys,  when  the  great 
questions  of  practical  life  confront  them :  "  What  am 
I  to  be  ?  What  shall  I  do  for  a  living  ? " 

How  ardently  she  wished  she  had  money,  so  that 
she  could  spend  two  or  three  entire  years  at  school ! 
How  eagerly  she  would  have  used  those  advantages 
for  obtaining  an  education  which  so  many,  who  have 
them,  carelessly  throw  away  !  But  Yinnie  had  noth 
ing —  could  expect  nothing  —  which  she  did  not 
earn. 

At  one  time  she  resolved  to  go  to  work  in  a  fac 
tory;  at  another,  to  try  teaching  a  district  school; 
and  again,  to  learn  some  trade,  like  that  of  dress 
maker  or  milliner.  Often  she  wished  for  the  free- 


64  THE  YOUNG   SURVEYOR. 

dom  to  go  out  into  the  world  and  gain  her  livelihood 
like  a  boy. 

In  this  mood  of  mind  she  received  two  letters. 
One  was  from  Jack,  describing  his  accidental  visit  to 
her  sister's  family.  The  other  was  from  Caroline 
herself,  who  made  that  visit  the  occasion  of  writing 
a  plaintive  letter  to  her  "  dear,  neglected  Lavinia." 

Many  tears  she  shed  over  these  letters.  The 
touching  picture  Jack  drew  of  the  invalid  Cecie,  and 
the  brave  little  Lilian,  and  of  the  sick  mother  and 
baby,  with  Caroline's  sad  confession  of  distress,  and 
of  her  need  of  sympathy  and  help,  wakened  springs 
of  love  and  pity  in  the  young  girl's  heart.  She  for 
got  that  she  had  anything  to  forgive.  All  her  half- 
formed  schemes  for  self-help  and  self-culture  were  at 
once  discarded,  and  she  formed  a  courageous  resolu 
tion. 

"I  will  go  to  Illinois,"  she  said,  "and  take  care 
of  my  poor  sister  and  her  sick  children." 

Such  a  journey,  from  "Western  New  York,  was 
no  small  undertaking  in  those  days.  But  she  did 
not  shrink  from  it. 

"  What ! "  said  Mrs.  Presbit,  when  Vinnie's  de 
termination  was  announced  to  her,  "you  will  go 
and  work  for  a  sister  who  has  treated  you  so  shame 
fully  all  these  years  ?  Only  a  half-sister,  at  that ! 
I  'm  astonished  at  you !  I  thought  you  had  more 
sperit." 

"  For  anything  she  may  have  done  wrong,  I  am 
sure  she  is  sorry  enough  now,"  Vinnie  replied. 


HOW  VINNIE  MADE  A  JOURNEY.  65 

"Yes,  now  she  has  need  of  you!"  sneered  Mrs. 
Presbit. 

"  Besides,"  Vinnie  continued,  "  I  ought  to  go,  for 
the  children's  sake,  if  not  for  hers.  Think  of  Cecie 
and  the  poor  baby ;  and  Lilian  not  ten  years  old, 
trying  to  do  the  housework  !  I  can  do  so  much 
for  them ! " 

"  No  doubt  of  that ;  for  I  must  say  you  are  as 
handy  and  willing  a  girl  as  ever  I  see.  But  there  's 
the  Betterson  side  to  the  family,  —  two  great,  lub 
berly  boys,  according  to  your  friend's  account;  a 
proud,  domineering  set,  I  warrant  ye !  The  idee 
of  making  a  slave  of  yourself  for  them  !  You  '11 
find  it  a  mighty  unco mf table  place,  mark  my 
word ! " 

"  I  hope  no  more  so  than  the  place  I  am  in  now, 
—  excuse  me  for  saying  it,  Aunt  Presbit,"  added 
Vinnie,  in  a  trembling  voice.  "  It  is  n't  your  fault. 
But  you  know  how  things  are." 

"  0,  la,  yes !  she  wants  to  go  ahead,  and  order 
everything ;  and  I  think  it 's  as  well  to  let  her,  — 
though  she  '11  find  she  can't  run  over  me  !  But  I 
don't  blame  you  the  least  mite,  Vinnie,  for  feeling 
sensitive ;  and  if  you  Ve  made  up  your  mind  to  go, 
I  sha'  n't  hender  ye,  —  I  '11  help  ye  all  I  can." 

So  it  happened  that,  only  four  days  after  the  re 
ceipt  of  her  sister's  letter,  Vinnie,  with  all  her 
worldly  possessions  contained  in  one  not  very  large 
trunk,  bid  her  friends  good  by,  and,  not  without 
misgivings,  set  out  alone  on  her  long  journey. 

E 


66  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

She  took  a  packet-boat  on  the  canal  for  Buffalo. 
At  Buffalo,  with  the  assistance  of  friends  she  had 
made  on  board  the  boat,  she  found  the  captain  of 
a  schooner,  who  agreed  to  give  her  a  passage  around 
the  lakes  to  Chicago,  for  four  dollars.  There  were 
no  railroads  through  Northern  Ohio  and  across 
Michigan  and  Indiana  in  those  days ;  and  although 
there  were  steamboats  on  the  lakes,  Vinnie  found 
that  a  passage  on  one  of  them  would  cost  more 
money  than  she  could  afford.  So  she  was  glad  to 
go  in  the  schooner. 

The  weather  was  fine,  the  winds  favored,  and  the 
Heron  made  a  quick  trip.  Vinnie,  after  two  or 
three  days  of  sea-sickness,  enjoyed  the  voyage,  which 
was  made  all  the  more  pleasant  to  her  by  the  friend 
ship  of  the  captain  and  his  wife. 

She  was  interested  in  all  she  saw,  —  in  watching 
the  waves,  the  sailors  hauling  the  ropes,  the  swelling 
of  the  great  sails, — in  the  vessels  they  met  or 
passed,  the  ports  at  which  they  touched,  —  the  fort, 
the  Indians,  and  the  wonderfully  clear  depth  of  the 
water  at  Mackinaw.  But  the  voyage  grew  tiresome 
toward  the  close,  and  her  heart  bounded  with  joy 
when  the  captain  came  into  the  cabin  early  one  morn 
ing  and  announced  that  they  had  reached  Chicago. 

The  great  Western  metropolis  was  then  a  town 
of  no  more  than  eight  or  ten  thousand  inhabitants, 
hastily  and  shabbily  built  on  the  low  level  of  the 
plain  stretching  for  miles  back  from  the  lake  shore. 
In  a  short  walk  with  the  captain's  wife,  Vinnie  saw 


HOW   VINNIE  MADE  A  JOURNEY.  67 

about  all  of  the  place  she  cared  to ;  noting  particu 
larly  a  load  of  hay  "  slewed,"  or  mired,  in  the  mud- 
holes  of  one  of  the  principal  streets ;  the  sight  of 
which  made  her  wonder  if  a  great  and  flourishing 
city  could  ever  be  built  there  ! 

Meanwhile  the  captain,  by  inquiry  in  the  resorts 
of  market-men,  found  a  farmer  who  was  going  to 
drive  out  to  the  Long  Woods  settlement  that  after 
noon,  and  who  engaged  to  come  with  his  wagon  to 
the  wharf  where  the  Heron  lay,  and  take  off  Vin- 
nie  and  her  trunk. 

"  0,  how  fortunate  ! "  she  exclaimed.  "  How  good 
everybody  is  to  me  !  Only  think,  I  shall  reach  my 
sister's  house  to-night ! " 


68  THE   YOUNG   SURVEYOR. 


CHAPTER    IX. 

VINNIE'S  ADVENTURE. 

IN  due  time  a  rough  farm-wagon  was  backed  down 
upon  the  wharf,  and  a  swarthy  man,  with  a  high, 
hooked  nose,  like  the  inverted  prow  of  a  ship, 
boarded  the  schooner,  and  scratched  his  head, 
through  its  shock  of  stiff,  coarse  hair,  by  way  of  sal 
utation  to  Vinnie,  who  came  on  deck  to  meet  him. 

"  Do'  no  's  you  '11  like  ridin'  with  me,  in  a  lum 
ber-wagon,  on  a  stiff  board  seat." 

"  O,  I  sha'  n't  mind ! "  said  Vinnie,  who  was  only 
too  glad  to  go. 

"  What  part  of  the  settlement  ye  goin'  to  ? "  he 
asked,  as  he  lifted  one  end  of  the  trunk,  while  the 
captain  took  up  the  other. 

"  To  Mr.  Betterson's  house  ;  Mrs.  Betterson  is  my 
sister,"  said  Vinnie. 

The  man  dropped  his  end  of  the  trunk,  and  turned 
and  glared  at  her. 

"  You  've  got  holt  o'  the  wrong  man  this  time ! " 
he  said.  "  I  don't  take  nobody  in  my  wagon  to  the 
house  of  no  sich  a  man  as  Lord  Betterson.  Ye  may 
tell  him  as  much." 

"  Will  you  take  me  to  any  house  near  by  ? "  said 
the  astonished  Vinnie. 


VINNIE'S  ADVENTURE.  69 

"  Not  if  you  're  a  connection  of  the  Bettersons, 
I  won't  for  no  money  !  I  've  nothin'  to  do  with 
that  family,  but  to  hate  and  despise  'em.  Tell  'em 
that  too.  But  they  know  it  a'ready.  My  name  's 
Dudley  Peakslow." 

And,  in  spite  of  the  captain's  remonstrance,  the 
angry  man  turned  his  back  upon  the  schooner,  and 
drove  off  in  his  wagon. 

It  took  Vinnie  a  minute  to  recover  from  the  shock 
his  rude  conduct  gave  her.  Then  she  smiled  faintly, 
and  said,  — 

"  It 's  too  bad  I  could  n't  have  a  ride  in  his  old 
wagon  !  But  he  would  n't  be  very  agreeable  com 
pany,  would  he  ? "  So  she  tried  to  console  herself 
for  the  disappointment.  She  had  thought  all  along  : 
"  If  I  can  do  no  better,  I  will  take  the  stage  to  North 
Mills ;  Jack  will  help  me  get  over  to  my  sister's  from 
there."  And  it  now  seemed  as  if  she  might  have  to 
take  that  route. 

The  schooner  was  discharging  her  miscellaneous 
freight  of  Eastern  merchandise,  —  dry  goods,  gro 
ceries,  hardware,  boots  and  shoes,  —  and  the  captain 
was  too  much  occupied  to  do  anything  more  for  her 
that  afternoon. 

She  grew  restless  under  the  delay ;  and  feeling 
that  she  ought  to  make  one  more  effort  to  find  a 
conveyance  direct  to  Long  Woods,  she  set  off  alone 
to  make  inquiries  for  herself. 

The  first  place  she  visited  was  a  hotel  she  had 
noticed  in  her  morning's  walk,  —  the  Farmers'  Home  ; 


70  THE  YOUNG   SURVEYOR. 

and  she  was  just  going  away  from  the  door,  having 
met  with  no  success,  when  a  slim  youth,  carrying 
his  head  jauntily  on  one  side,  came  tripping  after 
her,  and  accosted  her  with  an  apologetic  smile  and 
lifted  hat. 

"  Excuse  me,  —  I  was  told  you  wanted  to  find  some 
body  going  out  to  Mr.  Betterson's  at  Long  Woods." 

"  0  yes !  do  you  know  of  anybody  I  can  ride 
with  ? " 

"  I  am  in  a  way  of  knowing,  —  why,  yes,  —  I 
think  there  is  a  gentleman  going  out  early  to-mor 
row  morning.  A  gentleman  and  his  daughter.  Wife 
and  daughter,  in  fact.  A  two-seated  wagon ;  you 
might  ride  on  the  hind-seat  with  the  daughter. 
Stopping  at  the  Prairie  Flower." 

"  0,  thank  you  !  And  can  I  go  there  and  find 
them  ? " 

"  I  am  going  that  way,  and,  if  you  please,  I  will 
introduce  you,"  said  the  youth. 

Vinnie  replied  that,  if  he  would  give  her  their 
names,  she  would  save  him  the  trouble.  For,  despite 
his  affability,  there  was  something  about  him  she 
distrusted  and  disliked,  —  an  indefinable  air  of  in 
sincerity,  and  a  look  out  of  his  eyes  of  gay  vaga 
bondism  and  dissipation. 

He  declared  that  it  would  be  no  trouble;  more 
over,  he  could  not  at  that  moment  recall  the  names ; 
so,  as  there  was  no  help  for  it,  she  let  him  walk  by 
her  side. 

At  the  Prairie  Flower,  —  which  was  not  quite  so 


VINNIE'S  ADVENTURE. 


71 


lovely  or  fragrant  a  public-house  as  the  name  had 
led  her  to  expect,  —  he  showed  her  into  a  small, 
dingy  sitting-room,  up  one  flight  of  stairs,  and  went 
to  speak  with  the  clerk. 

"The  ladies  will  be  here  presently,"  he  said,  re 
turning  to  her  in  a  few  minutes.  "  Meanwhile  I 
thought  I  would  order  some  refreshments."  And  he 
was  followed  into  the  room  by  a  waiter  bringing  a 
basket  of  cake  and  two  glasses  of  wine. 


TOO  OBLIGING  BY  HALF. 


72  THE  YOUNG   SURVEYOR. 

"  No  refreshments  for  me  ! "  cried  Vinnie,  quickly. 

"  The  other  ladies  will  like  some,"  said  the  youth, 
carelessly.  "  Intimate  friends  of  mine.  Just  a  little 
cake  and  sweet  wine." 

"  But  you  have  ordered  only  two  glasses  !  And  a 
few  minutes  ago  you  could  n't  think  of  their  names, 
—  those  intimate  friends  of  yours  ! "  returned  Vinnie, 
with  sparkling  eyes. 

The  youth  took  up  a  glass,  threw  himself  back  in 
a  chair,  and  laughed. 

"  It 's  a  very  uncommon  name,  —  Jenkins ;  no, 
Judkins ;  something  like  that.  Neighbors  of  the 
Bettersons ;  intimate  friends  of  tJieirs,  I  mean.  You 
think  I  'm  not  acquainted  out  there  ?  Ask  Carrie  ! 
ask  the  boys,  hi,  hi ! "  —  with  a  giggle  and  a  grimace, 
as  he  sipped  the  wine. 

"  You  do  really  know  my  sister  Caroline  ? "  said 
Vinnie. 

The  youth  set  down  his  glass  and  stared. 

"Your  sister!  I  wondered  who  in  thunder  you 
could  be,  inquiring  your  way  to  Betterson's ;  but  I 
never  dreamed  —  Excuse  me,  I  would  n't  have 
played  such  a  joke,  if  I  had  known ! " 

"  What  joke  ? "  Vinnie  demanded. 

"  Why,  there  's  no  Jenkins,  —  Judkins,  —  what  did 
I  call  their  names  ?  I  just  wanted  to  have  a  little 
fun,  and  find  you  out." 

Vinnie  trembled  with  indignation.  She  started  to  go. 

"  But  you  have  n't  found  me  out,"  he  said,  with  an 
impudent  chuckle. 


VINNIE'S  ADVENTURE.  73 

"  I  've  found  out  all  I  wish  to  know  of  you,"  said 
Vinnie,  ready  to  cry  with  vexation.  "I've  come 
alone  all  the  way  from  my  home  in  Western  New 
York,  and  met  nobody  who  was  n't  kind  and  respect 
ful  to  me,  till  I  reached  Chicago  to-day." 

The  wretch  seemed  slightly  touched  by  this  re 
buke  ;  but  he  laughed  again  as  he  finished  his 
glass. 

"  Well,  it  was  a  low  trick.  But 't  was  all  in  fun, 
I  tell  ye.  Come,  drink  your  wine,  and  make  up; 
we  '11  be  friends  yet.  Won't  drink  ?  Here  goes, 
then  ! "  And  he  tossed  off  the  contents  of  the  second 
glass.  "  Now  we  11  take  a  little  walk,  and  talk  over 
our  Betterson  friends  by  the  way." 

She  was  already  out  of  the  room.  He  hastened  to 
her  side ;  she  walked  faster  still,  and  he  came  trip 
ping  lightly  after  her  down  the  stairs. 

Betwixt  anger  and  alarm,  she  was  wondering 
whether  she  should  try  to  run  away  from  him,  or 
ask  the  protection  of  the  first  person  she  met,  when, 
looking  eagerly  from  the  doorway  as  she  hurried  out, 
she  saw,  across  the  street,  a  face  she  knew,  and  ut 
tered  a  cry  of  joy. 

"  Jack  !  0  Jack  ! " 

It  seemed  almost  like  a  dream,  that  it  should  in 
deed  be  Jack,  then  and  there.  He  paused,  glanced 
up  and  down,  then  across  at  the  girlish  figure  start 
ing  toward  him,  and  rushed  over  to  her,  reaching  out 
both  hands,  and  exclaiming,  — 

"  Vinnie  Dalton  !  is  it  you  ? " 

4 


74  THE  YOUNG   SURVEYOK. 

In  the  surprise  and  pleasure  of  this  unexpected 
meeting,  she  forgot  all  about  the  slim  youth  she  was 
so  eager  to  avoid  a  moment  before.  When  she 
thought  of  him  again,  and  looked  about  her,  he 
had  disappeared,  having  slipped  behind  her,  and 
skipped  back  up  the  stairs  with  amazing  agility  at 
sight  of  Jack. 


JACK  AND  VINNIE  IN   CHICAGO.  75 


CHAPTER  X. 

JACK  AND  VINNIE  IN  CHICAGO. 

VINNIE  poured  out  her  story  to  her  friend  as  they 
•walked  along  the  street. 

Jack  was  so  incensed,  when  she  came  to  the  up 
shot  of  the  adventure,  that  he  wished  to  go  back  at 
once  and  make  the  slim  youth's  acquaintance.  But 
she  would  not  permit  so  foolish  a  thing. 

"  It  is  all  over  now.  What  good  would  it  do  for 
you  to  see  him  ? " 

"  I  don't  know ;  I  'd  like  to  tell  the  scamp  what  I 
think  of  him,  if  nothing  more.  He  wanted  a  little 
fun,  did  he  ? "  And  Jack  stood,  pale  with  wrath, 
looking  back  at  the  hotel. 

"  If  it  had  n't  been  for  him,  I  might  not  have  seen 
you,"  said  Vinnie.  "  Maybe  you  can't  forgive  him 
that ! " 

Jack  looked  into  her  eyes,  full  of  a  sweet,  mirthful 
light,  and  forgot  his  anger. 

"I'll  forgive  him  the  rest,  because  of  that.  Be 
sides,  I  Ve  no  time  to  waste  on  him.  I  'm  hunting 
for  my  horse." 

He  had  written  to  Vinnie  of  his  loss ;  and  she  was 
now  eager  to  know  if  Snowfoot  had  been  heard  from. 

"  Not  a  hair  of  him ! "  said  Jack.     "  I  got  an  old 


76  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

hunter  and  trapper  to  go  with  me  the  next  day ;  we 
struck  his  trail  on  the  prairie,  and  after  a  deal  of 
trouble  tracked  him  to  a  settler's  cabin.  There  the 
rogue  had  stopped,  and  asked  for  supper  and  lodg 
ings,  which  he  promised  to  pay  for  in  the  morning. 
The  man  and  his  wife  had  gone  to  bed,  but  they  got 
up,  fed  him  and  the  horse,  and  then  made  him  up  a 
bed  on  the  cabin  floor.  He  pretended  to  be  very 
careful  of  his  horse,  and  he  had  to  go  out  and  make 
sure  that  he  was  all  right  before  he  went  to  bed ; 
and  that  was  the  last  they  saw  of  him.  He  bridled 
Snowfoot,  and  rode  off  so  slyly  that  they  never  knew 
which  way  he  went.  He  had  struck  the  travelled 
road,  and  there  we  lost  all  trace  of  him.  I  went  on 
to  Joliet,  and  looked  along  the  canal,  and  set  stable 
men  to  watch  for  him,  while  my  friend  took  the  road 
to  Chicago ;  but  neither  of  us  had  any  luck.  I  've 
hunted  all  about  the  country  for  him ;  and  now,  for 
a  last  chance,  I  've  come  to  Chicago  myself." 

"  How  long  have  you  been  here  ?  "  Vinnie  asked. 

"  Only  about  two  hours ;  and  I  must  go  back  to 
morrow.  I  've  not  much  hope  of  finding  Snowfoot 
here  ;  but  as  I  had  a  chance  to  ride  in  with  a  neigh 
bor,  I  thought  best  to  take  advantage  of  it.  Lucky 
I  did !  Why  did  n't  you  write  and  let  somebody 
know  you  were  coming  ? " 

"  I  did  write  to  my  sister ;  but  I  did  n't  expect 
anybody  to  meet  nie  here  in  Chicago,  since  I 
couldn't  tell  just  when  I  should  arrive." 

"  Where  are  you  stopping  ? " 


JACK  AND  VINNIE   IN   CHICAGO.  77 

w  On  board  the  schooner  that  brought  me.  She  is 
lying  quite  near  here,  at  a  wharf  in  the  river." 

"  Can  you  stay  on  board  till  to-morrow  ?  " 

Vinnie  thought  the  captain  and  his  wife  would  be 
glad  to  keep  her. 

"  Though  it  is  n't  very  nice,"  she  added,  "  now  that 
they  are  discharging  the  cargo." 

"  Perhaps  you  had  better  go  to  the  Farmers' 
Home,  where  my  friend  and  I  have  put  up,"  said 
Jack. 

"  You  at  the  Farmers'  Home !  Why  could  n't  I 
have  known  it  ? "  said  Vinnie.  "  It  was  there  I  went 
to  inquire  for  Long  Woods  people,  and  met  that  scape 
grace.  When  do  you  go  home  ? " 

"  We  start  early  to-morrow  morning.  You  can  go 
with  us  as  well  as  not,  —  a  good  deal  better  than 
not!"  said  the  overjoyed  Jack.  "Nothing  but  a 
little  load  of  groceries.  You  shall  go  home  with  me 
to  North  Mills  ;  Mrs.  Lanman  will  be  glad  to  see 
you.  Then  I'll  drive  you  over  to  Long  Woods  in 
three  or  four  days." 

"  Three  or  four  days !  "  exclaimed  Vinnie,  not  dar 
ing  to  be  as  happy  as  these  welcome  words  might 
have  made  her.  "  I  should  like  much  to  visit  your 
friends ;  but  I  must  get  to  my  sister's  as  soon  as 
possible." 

Jack's  face  clouded. 

"  Vinnie,  I  'm  afraid  you  don't  know  what  you 
have  undertaken.  I  can't  bear  the  thought  of  your 
going  into  that  family.  Why  do  you  ?  The  Lan- 


78  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

mans  will  be  delighted  to  have  you  stay  with 
them." 

"  O,  "but  I  must  go  where  I  am  needed,"  Vinnie 
answered.  "  And  you  must  n't  say  a  word  against  it. 
You  must  help  me,  Jack  ! " 

"  They  need  you  enough,  Heaven  knows,  Vinnie  ! " 
Jack  felt  that  he  ought  not  to  say  another  word  to 
discourage  her,  so  he  changed  the  subject.  "  Which 
way  now  is  your  schooner  ? " 

Vinnie  said  she  would  show  him ;  but  she  wished 
to  buy  a  little  present  for  the  captain's  wife  on  the 
way.  As  they  passed  along  the  street,  she  made 
him  tell  all  he  knew  of  her  sister's  family ;  and  then 
asked  if  he  had  heard  from  George  Greenwood  lately. 

"  Only  a  few  days  ago  he  sent  me  a  magazine 
with  a  long  story  of  his  in  it,  founded  on  our  ad 
venture  with  the  pickpockets,"  replied  Jack.  "  He 
writes  me  a  letter  about  once  a  month.  You  hear 
from  him,  of  course  ? " 

"  0  yes.  And  he  sends  me  magazines.  He  has 
wonderful  talent,  don't  you  think  so  ? " 

And  the  two  friends  fell  to  praising  the  absent 
George. 

"  I  wonder  if  you  have  noticed  one  thing  ? "  said 
Vinnie. 

"  What,  in  particular  ? " 

"  That  Grace  Manton  has  been  the  heroine  of  all 
his  last  stories." 

"  I  fancied  I  could  see  you  in  one  or  two  of  them," 
replied  Jack. 


JACK  AND  VINNIE  IN   CHICAGO.  79 

"  Perhaps.  But  I  am  not  the  heroine  ;  I  am  only 
the  goody-goody  girl,"  laughed  Vinnie.  "  When  you 
see  beauty,  talent,  accomplishments,  —  that 's  Grace. 
I  am  glad  they  are  getting  on  so  well  together." 

"•So  am  I ! "  said  Jack,  with  an  indescribable  look 
at  the  girl  beside  him. 

"  Mr.  Manton  is  dead,  —  I  suppose  you  know  it," 
said  Vinnie. 

Jack  knew  it,  and  was  not  sorry ;  though  he  had 
much  to  say  in  praise  of  the  man's  natural  talents, 
which  dissipation  had  ruined. 

The  purchase  made,  they  visited  the  schooner, 
where  it  was  decided  that  Vinnie  should  remain  on 
board.  Jack  then  left  her,  in  order  to  make  the 
most  of  his  time  looking  about  the  city  for  his 
horse. 

He  continued  his  search,  visiting  every  public 
stable,  making  inquiries  of  the  hostlers,  and  nailing 
up  or  distributing  a  small  hand-bill  he  had  had 
printed,  offering  a  reward  of  twenty  dollars  for  "a 
light,  reddish  roan  horse,  with  white  forefeet,  a 
conspicuous  scar  low  down  on  the  near  side,  just 
behind  the  shoulder,  and  a  smaller  scar  on  the  off 
hip." 

In  the  mean  time  he  kept  a  sharp  lookout  for  roan 
horses  in  the  streets.  But  all  to  no  purpose.  There 
were  roan  horses  enough,  but  he  could  see  and  hear 
nothing  of  the  particular  roan  he  wanted. 

In  the  evening  he  went  to  see  Vinnie  on  board  the 
schooner,  and  talked  of  his  ill  success. 


80  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

"  A  light  roan  ?  that 's  a  kind  of  gray,  ain't  it  ? " 
said  the  captain  of  the  Heron.  "  That  bearish  fellow 
from  Long  Woods,  who  would  n't  take  into  his  wagon 
anybody  connected  with  the  Bettersons  —  " 

"Dudley  Peakslow,  —  I  sha'n't  soon  forget  his 
name  ! "  said  Vinnie. 

"  He  drove  such  a  horse,"  said  the  captain ; 
"though  I  didn't  notice  the  forefeet  or  any  scars." 

Jack  laughed,  and  shook  his  head. 

"  That 's  what  everybody  says.  But  the  scars  and 
forefeet  are  the  main  points  in  my  case.  I  would  n't 
give  a  cent  for  a  roan  horse  without  'em  ! "  Then  he 
changed  the  subject.  "  It 's  a  beautiful  night,  Vinnie ; 
let 's  go  for  a  little  stroll  on  the  lake  shore,  and  for 
get  all  about  roans,  —  light  roans,  dark  roans,  white 
feet,  black,  blue,  green,  yellow  feet!  Perhaps  your 
friends  will  go  with  us." 

Jack  hoped  they  would  n't,  I  regret  to  say.  But 
the  night  was  so  pleasant,  and  the  captain's  wife  had 
become  so  attached  to  Vinnie,  that  she  persuaded  her 
husband  to  go. 

The  lake  shore  was  charming;  for  in  those  early 
days  it  had  not  been  marred  by  breakwaters  and 
docks.  The  little  party  strolled  along  the  beach, 
with  the  sparkling  waves  dashing  at  their  feet,  and 
the  lake  spread  out  before  them,  vast,  fluctuating, 
misty-gray,  with  here  and  there  a  white  crest  toss 
ing  in  the  moon. 

Singing  snatches  of  songs  with  Vinnie,  telling 
stories  with  the  captain,  skipping  pebbles  on  the 


JACK  AND   VINNIE   IN   CHICAGO.  81 

lake,  —  ah,  how  happy  Jack  was !  He  was  glad, 
after  all,  that  they  had  all  come  together,  since 
there  was  now  no  necessity  of  Vinnie's  hastening 
back  to  the  schooner,  to  prevent  her  friends  from 
sitting  up  for  her. 

"  I  've  been  in  this  port  fifty  times,"  said  the  cap 
tain,  "  but  I  've  never  been  down  here  before,  neither 
has  my  wife ;  and  I  'm  much  obliged  to  you  for 
bringing  us." 

"  I  like  the  lake,"  said  his  wife,  "  but  I  like  it  best 
from  shore." 

"  0,  so  do  I ! "  said  Vinnie,  filled  with  the  peace 
and  beauty  of  the  night. 

It  was  late  when  they  returned  to  the  schooner. 
There  Jack  took  his  leave,  bidding  Vinnie  hold  her 
self  in  readiness  to  be  taken  off,  with  her  trunk,  in 
a  grocer's  wagon  early  the  next  morning. 


82  THE  YOUNG   SURVEYOR 


CHAPTER  XL 

JACK'S  NEW  HOME. 

IN  due  time  the  wagon  was  driven  to  the  wharf ; 
and  Vinnie,  parting  from  the  captain  and  his  wife 
with  affectionate  good-byes,  rode  out  in  the  freshness 
of  the  morning  across  the  great  plain  stretching  back 
from  the  city. 

The  plain  left  behind,  groves  and  streams  and  high 
prairies  were  passed ;  all  wearing  a  veil  of  romance 
to  the  eye  of  the  young  girl,  which  saw  everything 
by  its  own  light  of  youth  arid  hope. 

But  the  roads  were  in  places  rough  and  full  of 
ruts  ;  the  wagon  was  pretty  well  loaded  ;  and  Vinnie 
was  weary  enough,  when,  late  in  the  afternoon,  they 
approached  the  thriving  new  village  of  North  Mills. 

"  Here  we  come  to  Lanman's  nurseries,"  said  Jack, 
as  they  passed  a  field  of  rich  dark  soil,  ruled  with 
neat  rows  of  very  young  shrubs  and  trees.  "  Felton 
is  interested  in  the  business  with  him ;  and  I  work 
for  them  a  good  deal  when  we  've  no  surveying  to  do. 
They  're  hardly  established  yet ;  but  they  're  sure  of 
a  great  success  within  a  few  years,  for  all  this  im 
mense  country  must  have  orchards  and  garden  fruits, 
you  know.  Ah,  there 's  Lion ! " 

The    dog  came    bounding    to    the   front   wheels, 


JACK'S  NEW  HOME.  83 

whining,  barking,  leaping  up,  wagging  his  tail,  and 
finally  rolling  over  in  the  dirt,  to  show  his  joy  at 
seeing  again  his  young  master. 

The  Lanman  cottage  was  close  by;  and  there  in 
the  door  was  its  young  mistress,  who,  warned  by  the 
dog  of  the  wagon's  approach,  had  come  out  to  see  if 
Jack's  horse  was  with  him. 

"  No  news  of  Snowfoot  ? "  she  said,  walking  to  the 
gate  as  the  wagon  stopped. 

"Not  a  bit.  But  I've  had  good  luck,  after  all. 
For  here  is  —  who  do  you  suppose  ?  Vinnie  Dalton  ! 
Vinnie,  this  is  the  friend  you  have  heard  me  speak 
of,  Mrs.  Annie  Felton  Lanman." 

Vinnie  went  out  of  the  wagon  almost  into  the 
arms  of  Annie ;  so  well  had  both  been  prepared  by 
Jack  to  know  and  to  love  each  other. 

Of  course  the  young  girl  received  a  cordial  wel 
come  ;  and  to  her  the  little  cottage  seemed  the  most 
charming  in  the  world.  It  contained  few  luxuries, 
but  everything  in  it  was  arranged  with  neatness  and 
taste,  and  exhaled  an  atmosphere  of  sweetness  and 
comfort  which  mere  luxury  can  never  give. 

"  Lion  has  been  watching  for  you  with  the  anxiety 
of  a  lover  all  the  afternoon,"  Mrs.  Lanman  said  to 
Jack,  as,  side  by  side,  with  Vinnie  between  them, 
they  walked  up  the  path  to  the  door.  "  And  he  is 
jealous  because  you  don't  give  him  more  attention." 

"  Not  jealous ;  but  he  wants  to  be  introduced  to 
Vinnie.  Here,  old  fellow  ! " 

Vinnie  was  delighted  to  make  acquaintance  with 


84  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

the  faithful  dog,  and  listened  eagerly  to  Annie's 
praise  of  him  as  they  entered  the  house. 

"  He  is  useful  in  doing  our  errands,"  said  Mrs. 
Lanman.  "  If  I  wish  to  send  him  to  the  grocery 
for  anything,  I  write  my  order  on  a  piece  of  paper, 
put  it  into  a  basket,  and  give  the  basket  to  him, 
just  lifting  my  finger,  and  saying,  '  Go  to  the 
grocery,  go  to  the  grocery,'  twice ;  and  he  never 
makes  a  mistake.  To-day,  Jack,  for  the  first  time, 
he  came  home  without  doing  his  errand." 

"  Why,  Lion  !  I  'm  surprised  at  you  !  "  said  Jack ; 
while  Lion  lay  down  on  the  floor,  looking  very  much 
abashed. 

"I  sent  him  for  butter,  which  we  wanted  to  use 
at  dinner.  As  I  knew,  when  he  came  back,  that 
the  order,  which  I  placed  in  a  dish  in  the  basket, 
had  not  been  touched,  I  sent  him  again.  '  Don't 
come  home,'  I  said,  '  till  somebody  gives  you  the 
butter.'  He  then  went,  and  didn't  return  at  all. 
So,  as  dinner-time  came,  I  sent  my  brother  to  look 
after  him.  He  found  the  grocery  closed,  and  Lion 
waiting  with  his  basket  on  the  steps." 

"  The  grocer  is  sick,"  Jack  explained ;  "  his  son 
had  gone  to  town  with  me ;  and  so  the  clerk  was 
obliged  to  shut  up  the  store  when  he  went  to  din 
ner."  And  he  praised  and  patted  Lion,  to  let  him 
know  that  they  were  not  blaming  him  for  his  fail 
ure  to  bring  the  butter. 

"  One  day,"  said  Annie,  "  he  had  been  sent  to  the 
butcher's  for  a  piece  of  meat.  On  his  way  home  he 


JACK'S  NEW  HOME.  85 

saw  a  small  dog  of  his  acquaintance  engaged  in  a 
desperate  fight  with  a  big  dog,  —  as  big  as  Lion 
himself.  At  first  he  ran  up  to  them  much  excited ; 
then  he  seemed  to  remember  his  basket  of  meat. 
He  could  n't  go  into,  the  fight  with  that,  and  he  was 
too  prudent  to  set  it  down  in  the  street.  For  a 
moment  he  looked  puzzled ;  then  he  ran  to  the 
grocery,  which  was  close  by,  —  the  same  place  where 
we  send  him  for  things ;  but  instead  of  holding  up 
his  basket  before  one  of  the  men,  as  he  does  when 
his  errand  is  with  them,  he  went  and  set  it  carefully 
down  behind  a  barrel  in  a  corner.  Then  he  rushed 
out  and  gave  the  big  dog  a  severe  punishing.  The 
men  in  the  grocery  watched  him ;  and,  knowing  that 
he  would  return  for  the  basket,  they  hid  it  in 
another  place,  to  see  what  he  would  do.  He  went 
back  into  the  store,  to  the  corner  behind  the  barrel, 
and  appeared  to  be  in  great  distress.  He  snuffed 
and  whimpered  about  the  store  for  a  while,  then  ran 
up  to  the  youngest  of  the  men  —  " 

"  Horace,  —  the  young  fellow  who  came  out  with 
us  to-day,"  commented  Jack.  "  He  is  full  of  his 
fun ;  and  Lion  knew  that  it  would  be  just  like  him 
to  play  such  a  trick." 

—  "  He  ran  up  to  Horace,"  Annie  continued,  "  and 
barked  furiously  ;  and  became  at  last  so  fiercely 
threatening,  that  it  was  thought  high  time  Jo  give 
him  the  basket.  Lion  took  it  and  ran  home  in  ex 
traordinary  haste ;  but  it  was  several  days  before  he 
would  have  anything  more  to  do  with  Horace." 


86  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

"  Who  can  say,  after  this,  that  dogs  do  not  think  ? " 
said  the  admiring  Vinnie. 

"  Mr.  Lanman  thinks  he  has  some  St.  Bernard 
blood,"  said  Jack,  "and  that  is  what  gives  him  his 
intelligence.  He  knows  just  what  we  are  talking 
about  now ;  and  see !  he  hardly  knows  whether  to 
be  proud  or  ashamed.  I  don't  approve  of  his  fight 
ing,  on  ordinary  occasions ;  and  I  Ve  had  to  punish 
him  for  it  once  or  twice.  The  other  evening,  as 
I  was  coming  home  from  a  hunt  after  my  horse,  I 
saw  two  dogs  fighting  near  the  saw-milL" 

Jack  had  got  so  far  when  Lion,  who  had  seemed 
to  take  pleasure  in  being  in  the  room  till  that  mo 
ment,  got  up  very  quietly  and  went  out  with  droop 
ing  ears  and  tail. 

"  He  knows  what  is  coming,  and  does  n't  care  to 
hear  it.  There  's  a  little  humbug  about  Lion,  as 
there  is  about  the  most  of  us.  It  was  growing  dark, 
and  the  dogs  were  a  little  way  off,  and  I  was  n't 
quite  sure  of  Lion ;  but  some  boys  who  saw  the  fight 
told  me  it  was  he,  and  I  called  to  him.  But  what  do 
you  think  he  did  ?  Instead  of  running  to  greet  me, 
as  he  always  does  when  he  sees  me  return  after  an 
absence,  he  fought  a  little  longer,  then  pretended  to 
be  whipped,  and  ran  around  the  saw-mill,  followed  by 
the  other  dog.  The  other  dog  came  back,  but  Lion 
did  n't.  I  was  quite  surprised,  when  I  got  home,  to 
see  him  rush  out  to  meet  me  in  an  ecstasy  of  de 
light,  as  if  he  then  saw  me  for  the  first  time.  His 
whole  manner  seemed  to  say,  '  I  am  tickled  to  see 


JACK'S  NEW  HOME.  87 

you,  Jack !  and  if  you  think  you  saw  me  fighting 
the  sawyer's  dog  just  now,  you  're  much  mistaken.' 
I  don't  know  but  I  might  have  been  deceived,  in 
spite  of  the  boys;  but  one  thing  betrayed  him, — 
he  was  wet.  In  order  to  get  home  before  me,  with 
out  passing  me  on  the  road,  he  had  swum  the  river." 

"Now  you  must  tell  the  story  of  the  chickens," 
said  Annie. 

"Another  bit  of  humbug,"  laughed  Jack.  "Our 
neighbors'  chickens  trouble  us  by  scratching  in  our 
yard,  and  I  have  told  Lion  he  must  keep  them  out. 
But  I  noticed  that  sometimes,  even  when  he  had 
been  on  guard,  there  were  signs  that  the  chickens 
had  been  there  and  scratched.  So  I  got  Mrs.  Lan- 
man  to  watch  him  for  two  or  three  days,  while  he 
watched  the  chickens.  Now  Lion  is  very  fond  of 
company;  so,  as  soon  as  I  was  out  of  sight,  he 
would  let  the  chickens  come  in,  and  scratch  and 
play  all  about  him,  while  he  would  lie  with  his 
nose  on  his  paws  and  blink  at  them  as  good-na 
turedly  as  possible.  But  he  kept  an  eye  out  for 
me  all  the  while,  and  the  moment  I  came  in  sight 
he  would  jump  up,  and  go  to  frightening  away  the 
chickens  with  a  great  display  of  vigor  and  fidelity. 
So  you  see,  lion  is  n't  a  perfect  character,  by  any 
means.  I  could  tell  you  a  good  deal  more  about 
his  peculiarities ;  but  I  think  you  are  too  tired  now 
to  listen  to  any  more  dog  stories." 

Jack  carried  Vinnie's  trunk  to  a  cosey  little  room ; 
and  there  she  had  time  to  rest  and  make  herself 


88  THE  YOUNG   SURVEYOR. 

presentable,  before  Mrs.  Lanman  came  to  tell  her 
that  tea  was  ready. 

"  See  here,  Vinnie,  a  minute ! "  said  Jack,  peeping 
from  a  half-opened  door.  "  Don't  make  a  noise ! " 
he  whispered,  as  if  there  were  a  great  mystery  with 
in.  "  I  '11  show  you  something  very  precious." 

Mrs.  Lanman  followed,  smiling,  as  Jack  led  Vinnie 
to  a  crib,  lifted  a  light  veil,  and  discovered  a  lovely 
little  cherub  of  a  child,  just  opening  its  soft  blue 
eyes,  and  stretching  out  its  little  rosy  hands,  still 
dewy  with  sleep. 

"  0  how  sweet ! "  said  Vinnie,  thrilled  with  love 
and  tenderness  at  the  sight. 

"  She  has  a  smile  for  you,  see ! "  said  the  pleased 
young  mother. 

Of  course  Vinnie  had  never  seen  so  pretty  a  baby, 
such  heavenly  eyes,  or  such  cunning  little  hands. 

"  The  hands  are  little,"  said  Jack,  in  a  voice  which 
had  an  unaccustomed  tremor  in  it;  "but  they  are 
stronger  than  a  giant's ;  they  have  hold  of  all  our 
heart-strings." 

"  I  never  knew  a  boy  so  fond  of  a  baby  as  Jack 
is,"  said  Annie. 

"  0,  but  I  should  n't  be  so  fond  of  any  other 
baby ! "  Jack  replied,  bending  down  to  give  the  lit 
tle  thing  a  fond  caress. 

As  they  went  out  to  tea,  there  was  a  happy  light 
on  all  their  faces,  as  if  some  new,  deep  note  of  har 
mony  had  just  been  struck  in  their  hearts. 

At  tea  Vinnie  made  the  acquaintance  of  Annie's 


JACK'S  NEW  HOME.  89 

brother  and  husband,  and  Jack's  friends,  Mr.  Forrest 
Felton  and  Mr.  Percy  Lanman,  and  —  so  pleasant 
and  genial  were  their  ways  —  felt  at  home  in  their 
presence  at  once.  This  was  a  great  relief  to  her; 
for  she  felt  very  diffident  at  meeting  men  whom  she 
had  heard  Jack  praise  so  highly. 

Any  one  could  see  that  Vinnie  was  not  accus 
tomed  to  what  is  called  society;  but  her  native 
manners  were  so  simple  and  sincere,  and  there  was 
such  an  air  of  fresh,  young,  joyous,  healthy  life 
about  her,  that  she  produced  an  effect  upon  be 
holders  which  the  most  artificially  refined  young 
lady  might  have  envied. 

Jack  watched  her  and  Annie  a  good  deal  slyly; 
and  there  was  in  his  expression  a  curious  mixture 
of  pride  and  anxiety,  as  if  he  were  trying  to  look 
at  each  with  the  other's  eyes,  and  thinking  how  they 
must  like  each  other,  yet  having  some  fears  lest  they 
might  not  see  all  he  saw  to  admire. 

Vinnie  was  made  to  talk  a  good  deal  of  her  jour 
ney  ;  and  she  told  the  story  with  so  much  simplicity, 
speaking  with  unfeigned  gratitude  and  affection  of 
the  friendships  she  had  made,  and  touching  with 
quiet  mirthfulness  upon  the  droll  events,  as  if  she 
hardly  knew  herself  that  they  were  droll,  that  all 
—  and  especially  Jack  —  were  charmed. 

But  she  had  not  the  least  idea  of  "  showing  off." 
Indeed,  she  thought  scarcely  at  all  of  what  others 
thought  of  her;  but  said  often  to  herself,  "What 
a  beautiful  home  Jack  has,  and  what  pleasant  com 
panions  ! " 


90  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

After  tea  she  must  see  more  of  the  baby;  then 
Jack  wanted  to  show  her  the  greenhouses  and  the 
nurseries;  and  then  all  settled  down  to  a  social 
evening. 

"  Vinnie  is  pretty  tired,"  said  Jack,  "  and  I  think 
a  little  music  will  please  her  better  than  anything 
else." 

And  so  a  little  concert  was  got  up  for  her  enter 
tainment. 

Forrest  Felton  was  a  fine  performer  on  the  flute ; 
Mr.  Lanman  played  the  violin,  and  his  wife  the 
piano;  and  they  discoursed  some  excellent  music. 
Then,  still  better,  there  was  singing.  The  deep- 
chested  Forrest  had  .a  superb  bass  voice ;  Lanman 
a  fine  tenor;  Annie's  voice  was  light,  but  exceed 
ingly  sweet  and  expressive ;  and  they  sang  several 
pieces  together,  to  her  own  accompaniment  on  the 
piano.  Then  Lanman  said,  — 

"  Now  it  is  your  turn,  Jack." 

"  But  you  know,"  replied  Jack,  "  I  never  play  or 
sing  for  anybody,  when  your  wife  or  Forrest  is 
present." 

"  True ;  but  you  can  dance." 

"  0  yes  !  a  dance,  Jack  ! "  cried  Annie. 

Vinnie  clapped  her  hands.  "  Has  Jack  told  you," 
she  said,  "  how,  on  the  steamboat  going  from  Albany 
to  New  York,  after  they  had  had  their  pockets  picked, 
he  and  George  Greenwood  collected  a  little  money,  — 
George  playing  the  flute  and  Jack  dancing,  for  the 
amusement  of  the  passengers  ? " 


JACK'S  NEW  HOME.  91 

Jack  laughed,  and  looked  at  his  shoes. 

"  Well,  come  to  the  kitchen,  where  there 's  no 
carpet  on  the  floor,  and  I  '11  give  you  what  I  call 
the  'Canal  Driver's  Hornpipe.'  Bring  your  flute, 
Forrest." 

So  they  went  to  the  kitchen ;  and  all  stood,  while 
Jack,  with  wild  grace  of  attitude  and  wonderful 
ease  and  precision  of  movement,  performed  one  of 
his  most  difficult  and  spirited  dances. 

When  it  was  ended,  in  the  midst  of  the  laughter 
and  applause,  he  caught  up  a  hat,  and  gayly  passed 
it  around  for  pennies.  But  while  the  men  were 
feeling  in  their  pockets,  he  appeared  suddenly  ta 
remember  where  he  was. 

"Beg  pardon,"  he  cried,  sailing  his  hat  into  a 
corner,  and  whirling  on  his  heel,  —  "I  forgot  my 
self;  I  thought  I  was  on  the  deck  of  the  steam 
boat!" 

This  closed  the  evening's  entertainment. 

When  Vinnie,  retiring  to  her  room,  laid  her  head 
on  the  pillow,  she  thought  of  the  night  before  and 
of  this  night,  and  asked  her  heart  if  it  could  ever 
again  know  two  evenings  so  purely  happy. 

Then  a  great  wave  of  anxiety  swept  over  her 
mind,  as  she  thought  of  the  other  home,  to  which 
she  must  hasten  on  the  morrow. 


92  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 


CHAPTER  XII. 
VINNIE'S  FUTURE  HOME. 

A  LIVELY  sensation  was  produced,  the  next  fore 
noon,  when  a  youth  and  a  girl,  in  a  one-horse  wagon, 
with  a  big  dog  and  a  small  trunk,  arrived  at  Lord 
Betterson's  "  castle." 

Link  dashed  into  the  house,  screaming,  "  They  've 
come  !  they  've  come  ! " 

"  Who  has  come  ? "  gasped  poor  Mrs.  Betterson, 
with  a  start  of  alarm,  glancing  her  eye  about  the 
disordered  room. 

"  Jack  What's-his-name !  the  fellow  that  shot  the 
deer  and  lost  his  horse.  It's  Aunt  Lavinny  with 
him,  I  bet!" 

And  out  the  boy  rushed  again,  to  greet  the  new 
comers. 

Lill,  who  was  once  more  washing  dishes  at  the 
table,  stepped  down  from  her  stool,  and  ran  out  too, 
drying  her  fingers  on  her  apron  by  the  way.  Five- 
year-old  Chokie  got  up  from  his  holes  in  the  earth 
by  the  doorstep,  and  stood  with  dangling  hands  and 
sprawling  fingers,  grinning,  dirty-faced. 

Vinnie,  springing  to  the  ground  with  Jack's  help, 
at  the  side  door  caught  Lill  in  her  arms,  and  gave 
her  an  ardent  kiss. 


VINNIE'S  FUTURE  HOME.  93 

"  I  have  heard  of  you  ! "  she  said ;  for  she  had 
recognized  the  bright,  wistful  face. 

"  Dear  auntie ! "  said  the  child,  with  tears  and 
smiles  of  joy,  "  I  'm  so  glad  you  've  come ! " 

"  Here  is  Link  —  my  friend  Link,"  said  Jack. 
"Don't  overlook  him." 

"  I  've  heard  a  good  deal  about  you  too,  Link ! " 
said  Vinnie,  embracing  him  also,  but  not  quite  so 
impulsively. 

"  Ye  need  n't  mind  kissing  me  ! "  said  Link,  bash 
fully  turning  his  face.  "  And  as  for  him,"  —  as  she 
passed  on  to  the  five-year-old,  —  "  that 's  Chokie  ; 
he  's  a  reg'lar  prairie  gopher  for  digging  holes ;  you 
won't  find  a  spot  on  him  big  as  a  sixpence  clean 
enough  to  kiss,  I  bet  ye  two  million  dollars ! " 

Vinnie  did  not  accept  the  wager,  convinced,  prob 
ably,  that  she  would  lose  it  if  she  did.  As  she  bent 
over  the  child,  however,  the  report  of  a  kiss  was 
heard,  —  a  sort  of  shot  in  the  air,  not  designed  to 
come  very  near  the  mark. 

"  I  'm  didding  a  well,"  said  Chokie,  in  a  solemn 
voice,  "  so  the  boys  won't  have  to  do  to  the  spring 
for  water." 

Mrs.  Betterson  tottered  to  the  door,  convulsively 
wrapping  her  red  shawl  about  her. 

"Lavinia!     Is  it  sister  Lavinia?" 

At  sight  of  her,  so  pale  and  feeble,  Vinnie  was 
much  affected.  She  could  hardly  speak;  but,  sup 
porting  the  emaciated  form  in  her  strong,  embracing 
arms,  she  led  her  back  into  the  house. 


94  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

"  You  are  so  good  to  come ! "  said  Mrs.  Betterson, 
weeping,  as  she  sank  in  her  chair.  "  I  am  worse  than 
when  I  wrote  to  you ;  and  the  baby  is  no  better ;  and 
Cecie  —  poor  Cecie  !  though  she  can  sit  up  but  little, 
she  does  more  than  any  of  us  for  the  sick  little  thing." 

Vinnie  turned  to  the  lounge,  where  Cecie,  with  the 
baby  in  her  arms,  lay  smiling  with  bright,  moist  eyes 
upon  the  new-comer.  She  bent  over  and  kissed 
them  both;  and,  at  sight  of  the  puny  infant,  —  so 
pitiful  a  contrast  to  Mrs.  Lanman's  fair  and  healthy 
child,  —  she  felt  her  heart  contract  with  grief  and 
her  eyes  fill. 

Then,  as  she  turned  away  with  an  effort  at  self- 
control,  and  looked  about  the  room,  she  must  have 
noticed,  too,  the  painful  contrast  between  Jack's 
home  and  this,  which  was  to  be  hers;  and  have 
felt  a  sinking  of  the  heart,  which  it  required  all  her 
strength  and  courage  to  overcome. 

"We  are  not  looking  fit  to  be  seen;  I  know  it, 
Lavinia ! "  sighed  Mrs.  Betterson.  "  But  you  '11  ex 
cuse  it  —  you  've  already  excused  so  many  things 
in  the  past!  It  seems  a  dreadful,  unnatural  thing 
for  our  family  to  be  so  —  so  very  —  yet  don't  think 
we  are  absolutely  reduced,  Lavinia.  Mr.  Betterson's 
connections,  as  everybody  knows,  are  very  wealthy 
and  aristocratic,  and  they  are  sure  to  do  something 
for  him  soon.  This  is  my  husband,  sister  Lavinia." 
And,  with  a  faint  simper  of  satisfaction,  she  looked 
up  at  a  person  who  just  then  entered  from  an  ad 
joining  room. 


VINNIE'S  FUTURE  HOME.  95 

He  was  a  tall,  well-made  man,  who  looked  (Vin- 
nie  could  not  help  thinking)  quite  capable  of  doing 
something  for  himself.  He  might  have  been  called 
fine-looking,  but  that  his  fine  looks,  like  his  gentility, 
of  which  he  made  a  faded  show  in  his  dress  and 
manners,  appeared  to  have  gone  somewhat  to  seed. 
He  greeted  Vinnie  with  polite  condescension,  said 
a  few  commonplace  words,  settled  his  dignified  chin 
in  his  limp  dicky,  which  was  supported  by  a  high, 
tight  stock  (much  frayed  about  the  edges),  and  went 
on  out  of  the  house. 

"  Now  you  have  seen  him ! "  whispered  Mrs.  Bet- 
terson,  as  if  it  had  been  a  great  event  in  Vinnie's 
life.  "  Very  handsome,  and  perfectly  well-bred,  as  you 
observe.  Not  at  all  the  kind  of  man  to  be  neglected 
by  his  family,  aristocratic  as  they  are ;  do  you  think 
he  is  ?  Yes,  my  dear  Lavinia,"  she  added,  with  a 
sickly  smile,  "  you  have  seen  a  real,  live  Betterson ! " 

These  evidences  of  a  foolish  pride  surviving  afflic 
tion  made  poor  Vinnie  more  heartsick  than  anything 
else;  and  for  a  moment  the  brave  girl  was  almost 
overcome  with  discouragement. 

In  the  mean  while  the  real,  live  Betterson  walked 
out  into  the  yard,  where  Jack  —  who  had  not  cared 
to  follow  Vinnie  into  the  house  —  was  talking  with 
Link. 

"  Will  you  walk  in,  sir  ? "  And  the  stately  Better- 
son  neck  bent  slightly  in  its  stiff  stock. 

"  No,  I  thank  you,"  replied  Jack.  "  But  I  suppose 
this  trunk  goes  in." 


96  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

"Ah !  to  be  sure.  Lincoln,"  —  with  a  wave  of  the 
aristocratic  Betterson  hand,  —  "  show  the  young  man 
where  to  put  the  trunk.  He  can  take  it  to  Cecie's 
room." 

"  I  can,  can  I  ?  That 's  a  privilege  ! "  thought 
Jack.  He  was  perfectly  willing  to  be  a  porter,  or 
anything  else,  in  a  good  cause ;  and  it  was  a  delight 
for  him  to  do  Vinnie  a  service ;  but  why  did  the 
noble  Betterson  stand  there  and  give  directions  about 
the  trunk,  in  that  pompous  way,  instead  of  taking 
hold  of  one  end  of  it  ?  Jack,  who  had  a  lively  spirit, 
and  a  tongue  of  his  own,  was  prompted  to  say  some 
thing  sarcastic,  but  he  wisely  forbore. 

"  I  '11  place  it  here  for  the  present,"  he  said,  and 
set  the  trunk  down  by  the  doorstep.  He  thought  it 
would  be  better  for  him  to  see  Vinnie  and  bid  her 
good-by  a  little  later,  after  the  meeting,  between  the 
sisters  should  be  well  over;  so  he  turned  to  Link, 
and  asked  where  his  big  brothers  were. 

"  I  d'n'  know,"  said  Link ;  "  guess  they  're  down  in 
the  lot  hunting  prairie  hens." 

"  Let 's  go  and  find  'em,"  said  Jack. 

Both  Link  and  Lion  were  delighted  with  this  pro 
posal,  and  they  set  off  in  high  glee,  boy  and  dog 
capering  at  each  side  of  the  more  steady-going 
Jack. 


WHY  JACK  DID  NOT  FIRE  AT  THE  PRAIRIE  CHICKEN.      97 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

WHY  JACK  DID  NOT  FIRE  AT   THE  PRAIRIE  CHICKEN. 

"  A  WELL  ? "  said  Jack,  as  they  passed  a  curb  be 
hind  the  house.  "I  thought  you  had  to  go  to  the 
spring  for  water." 

"So  we  do,"  said  Link. 

"Why  don't  you  use  the  well?" 

"  I  d'n'  know ;  't  ain't  good  for  anything.  'T  ain't 
deep  enough." 

"  Why  was  n't  it  dug  deeper  ? " 

"  I  d'n'  know ;  father  got  out  of  patience,  I  guess, 
or  out  of  money.  'T  was  a  wet  time,  and  the  water 
came  into  it,  so  they  stunned  it  up;  and  now  it's 
dry  all  summer." 

They  passed  a  field  on  the  sunny  slope,  and  Jack 
said,  "What's  here?" 

"  I  d'n'  know ;  't  was  potatoes,  but  it 's  run  all  to 
weeds." 

"Why  didn't  you  hoe  them?" 

"I  d'n'  know;  folks  kind  o'  neglected  'em,  till 
't  was  too  late." 

Beyond  the  potatoes  was  another  crop,  which  the 
weeds,  tall  as  they  were,  could  not  hide. 

"  Corn  ? "  said  Jack. 

"Meant  for  corn,"  replied  Link.  "But  the  cattle 
5  o 


98  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

and  hogs  have  been  in  it,  and  trampled  down  the 
rows." 

"  I  should  think  so  !  They  look  like  the  last  rows 
of  summer ! "  Jack  said.  "  Why  don't  you  keep  the 
cattle  and  hogs  out  ?  " 

"  I  d'n'  know ;  't  ain't  much  of  a  fence ;  hogs  run 
under  and  cattle  jump  over." 

"Plenty  of  timber  close  by,  —  why  don't  your 
folks  make  a  better  fence  ? " 

"  I  d'n'  know ;  they  don't  seem  to  take  a  notion." 

Jack  noticed  that  the  river  was  quite  near,  and 
asked  if  there  was  good  boating. 

"I  d'n'  know,  —  pretty  good,  only  when  the  wa 
ter's  too  low." 

"Do  you  keep  a  boat?" 

"Not  exactly, — we  never  had  one  of  our  own," 
said  Link.  "  But  one  came  floating  down  the  river, 
and  the  boys  nabbed  that.  A  fust-rate  boat,  only  it 
leaked  like  a  sieve." 

"  Leaked  ?     Does  n't  it  leak  now  ? " 

"  No  ? "  said  Link,  stoutly.  "  They  hauled  it  up, 
and  last  winter  they  worked  on  it,  odd  spells,  and 
now  it  don't  leak  a  drop." 

Jack  was  surprised  to  hear  of  so  much  enterprise 
in  the  Betterson  family,  and  asked,— 

"Stopped  all  the  leaks  in  the  old  boat!  They 
puttied  and  painted  it,  I  suppose  ? " 

"No,  they  didn't." 

"Calked  and  pitched  it,  then?" 

"No,  they  didn't." 


WHY  JACK  DID  NOT  FIRE  AT  THE  PRAIRIE  CHICKEN.      99 

"What  did  they  do  to  it?" 

"Made  kindling-wood  of  it,"  said  Link,  laughing, 
and  hitching  up  his  one  suspender. 

Jack  laughed  too,  and  changed  the  subject. 
"  Is  that  one  of  your  brothers  with  a  gun  ? " 
"  That 's  "Wad ;  Eufe  is  down  on  the  grass." 
"  What  sort  of  a  crop  is  that,  —  buckwheat  ? " 
Link  grinned.  "  There  's  something  funny  about 
that !  Ye  see,  a  buckwheat-lot  is  a  great  place  for 
prairie  hens.  So  one  day  I  took  the  old  gun,  and 
the  powder  and  shot  you  gave  me  for  carrying  you 
home  that  night,  and  went  in,  and  scared  up  five  or 
six,  and  fired  at  'em,  but  I  did  n't  hit  any.  Wad 
came  along  and  yelled  at  me.  '  Don't  you  know  any 
better  'n  to  be  trampling  down  the  buckwheat  ? '  says 
he.  'Out  of  there,  quicker!'  And  he  took  the  gun 
away  from  me.  But  he  'd  seen  one  of  the  hens  I 
started  light  again  on  the  edge  of  the  buckwheat ;  so 
he  went  in  to  find  her.  '  You  're  trampling  the 
buckwheat  yourself ! '  says  I.  '  No,  I  ain't,'  says  he, 
— '  I  step  between  the  spears ;  and  I  'm  coming  out 
in  a  minute.'  Be  stayed  in,  though,  about  an  hour, 
and  went  all  over  the  patch,  and  shot  two  prairie 
chickens.  Then  Rufe  came  along,  and  he  was  mad 
enough,  'cause  Wad  was  treading  down  the  buck 
wheat.  'Come  out  of  that!'  says  he,  'or  I'll  go  in 
after  ye,  and  put  that  gun  where  you  won't  see  it 
again.'  So  Wad  came  out;  and  the  sight  of  his 
chickens  made  Rufe's  eyes  shine.  'Did  ye  shoot 
them  in  the  buckwheat  ? '  says  he.  '  Yes,'  says  Wad ; 


100  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

'  and  I  could  shoot  plenty  more ;  the  patch  is  full  of 
'em.'  Eufe  said  he  wanted  the  gun  to  go  and  shoot 
ducks  with,  on  the  river ;  but  he  did  n't  find  any 
ducks,  and  coming  along  back  he  thought  he  would 
try  his  luck  in  the  buckwheat,  —  treading  between 
the  spears !  He  had  shot  three  prairie  chickens, 
when  father  came  along,  and  scolded  him,  and  made 
him  come  out.  '  I  've  heard  you  fire  twenty  times/ 
says  father ;  '  you  're  wasting  powder  and  ruining  the 
crop.  Let  me  take  the  gun.'  '  But  you  must  n't  ruin 
the  crop,'  says  Eufe.  Father's  a  splendid  shot, — 
can  drop  a  bird  every  time,  —  only  he  don't  like  to 
go  hunting  very  often.  He  thought  't  would  pay  for 
him  to  go  through  the  patch  once;  besides,  he  said, 
if  the  birds  were  getting  the  buckwheat,  we  might  as 
well  get  the  birds.  He  thought  he  could  tread  be 
tween  the  spears !  Well,  since  then,"  said  Link, 
"we've  just  made  a  hunting-ground  of  that  patch, 
always  treading  between  the  spears  till  lately ;  now 
it 's  got  so  trampled  it  never  11  pay  to  cut  it ;  so  we 
just  put  it  through.  See  that  hen  ! " 

There  was  a  sound  of  whirring  wings,  —  a  flash,  a 
loud  report,  a  curl  of  smoke,  —  a  broken-winged 
grouse  shooting  down  aslant  into  the  buckwheat,  and 
a  young  hunter  running  to  the  spot. 

"  That 's  the  way  he  does  it,"  said  Eufe,  getting  up 
from  the  grass. 

He  greeted  Jack  good-naturedly,  inquired  about 
Snowfoot,  heard  with  surprise  of  Vinnie's  arrival, 
and  finally  asked  if  Jack  would  like  to  try  his  hand 
at  a  shot. 


WHY  JACK  DID  NOT  FIRE  AT  THE  PRAIRIE  CHICKEN.   101 

"  I  should,"  replied  Jack,  "  if  it  was  n't  for  tread 
ing  down  your  buckwheat." 

"  That 's  past  caring  for,"  said  Eufe,  with  a  laugh. 
"  Here,  Wad,  bring  us  the  gun." 

"  Is  that  your  land  the  other  side  of  the  fence  ? " 
Jack  asked. 

"  That  lot  belongs  to  old  Teakslow,"  said  Eufe, 
speaking  the  name  with  great  contempt.  "  And  he 
pretends  to  claim  a  big  strip  this  side  too.  That 's 
what  caused  the  feud  between  our  families." 

"  He  hates  you  pretty  well,  I  should  judge,"  replied 
Jack ;  and  he  told  the  story,  as  Vinnie  had  told  it  to 
him,  of  her  encounter  with  Peakslow  on  the  deck  of 
the  schooner. 

"  He  's  the  ugliest  man  ! "  Eufe  declared,  reddening 
angrily.  "  You  may  thank  your  stars  you  've  nothing 
to  do  with  him.  Now  take  the  gun,"  —  Wad  had  by 
this  time  brought  it,  —  "  go  through  to  the  fence  and 
back,  and  be  ready  to  fire  the  moment  a  bird  rises. 
Keep  your  dog  back,  and  look  out  and  not  hit  one  of 
Peakslow's  horses,  the  other  side  of  the  fence." 

"  He  brought  home  a  new  horse  from  Chicago  a 
day  or  two  ago,"  said  Wad ;  "  and  he  's  just  been  out 
there  looking  at  him  and  feeling  for  ringbones.  If 
he  's  with  him  now,  and  if  you  should  happen  to 
shoot  one  of  'em,  I  hope  it  won't  be  the  horse  ! " 

Jack  laughed,  and  started  to  go  through  the  buck 
wheat.  He  had  got  about  half-way,  when  a  hen  rose 
a  few  feet  from  him,  at  his  right.  He  was  not  much 
accustomed  to  shooting  on  the  wing ;  and  it  is  much 


102 


THE  YOUNG   SURVEYOR. 


harder  to  hit  birds  rising  suddenly,  at  random,  in  that 
way,  than  when  they  are  started  by  a  trained  dog. 
But  good  luck  made  up  for  what  he  lacked  in  skill ; 


SHOT   ON  THE  WING. 


and  at  his  fire  the  hen  dropped  fluttering  in  the  grass 
that  bordered  the  buckwheat. 

"  I  '11  pick  her  up ! "  cried  Link  ;  and  he  ran  to  do 


WHY  JACK  DID  NOT  FIRE  AT  THE  PRAIRIE  CHICKEN.    103 

so  ;  while  Wad  carried  Jack  the  powder  and  shot  for 
another  load. 

"  But  I  ought  not  to  use  up  your  ammunition  in 
this  way  1 "  Jack  protested. 

"  I  guess  you  can  afford  to,"  replied  Wad.  "  It 
was  mostly  bought  with  money  we  sold  that  fawn- 
skin  for." 

Jack  was  willing  enough  to  try  another  shot ;  and, 
the  piece  reloaded,  he  resumed  his  tramp. 

He  had  nearly  reached  the  fence,  when  a  bird  rose 
between  it  and  him,  and  flew  over  Peakslow's  pasture. 
Jack  had  brought  the  gun  to  his  shoulder,  and  was 
about  to  pull  the  trigger,  when  he  remembered  Peak 
slow's  horses,  and  stopped  to  give  a  hasty  glance  over 
the  fence. 

Down  went  the  gun,  and  Jack  stood  astonished,  the 
bird  forgotten,  and  his  eyes  fixed  on  an  object  be 
yond. 

What  Wad  said  of  their  neighbor  having  brought 
out  a  new  horse  from  Chicago,  together  with  what 
the  captain  of  the  Heron  said  of  one  of  Peakslow's 
span  being  a  light  roan,  rushed  through  his  thoughts. 
He  ran  up  to  the  fence,  and  looked  eagerly  over ; 
then  gave  a  shout  of  joy. 

After  all  his  futile  efforts  to  find  him,  —  chasing 
about  the  country,  offering  rewards,  scattering  hand 
bills,  —  there  was  the  lost  horse,  the  veritable  Snow- 
foot,  grazing  quietly  in  the  amiable  Mr.  Peakslow's 
pasture ! 


104  THE  YOUNG   SURVEYOR. 


CHAPTEE  XIV. 

SNOWFOOT'S  NEW  OWNER. 

JACK  left  the  gun  standing  by  the  fence,  leaped 
over,  gave  a  familiar  whistle,  and  called,  "Come, 
Snowfoot !  Co'  jock  !  co'  jock  ! " 

There  were  two  horses  feeding  in  the  pasture,  not 
far  apart.  But  only  one  heeded  the  call,  lifted  head, 
pricked  up  ears,  and  answered  with  a  whinny.  It 
was  the  lost  Snowfoot,  giving  unmistakable  signs  of 
pleasure  and  recognition,  as  he  advanced  to  meet  his 
young  master. 

Jack  threw  his  arms  about  the  neck  of  his  favorite, 
and  hugged  and  patted  and  I  don't  know  but  kissed 
him ;  while  the  Betterson  boys  went  up  to  the  fence 
and  looked  wonderingly  over. 

In  a  little  while,  as  they  did  not  venture  to  go  to 
him,  Jack  led  Snowfoot  by  the  forelock  up  to  the 
rails,  which  they  had  climbed  for  a  better  view. 

"  Is  he  your  horse  ? "  they  kept  calling  to  him. 

"  Don't  you  see  ? "  replied  Jack,  when  he  had  come 
near  enough  to  show  the  white  feet  and  the  scars ; 
and  his  face  gleamed  with  glad  excitement.  "  Look  ! 
he  and  the  dog  know  each  other ! " 

It  was  not  a  Betterson,  but  a  Peakslow  style  of 
fence,  and  Lion  could  not  leap  it ;  but  the  two  ani- 


SNOWFOOT'S  NEW  OWNER.  105 

mals  touched  noses,  with  tokens  of  friendly  recogni 
tion,  between  the  rails. 

"  I  never  expected  such  luck  ! "  said  Jack.  "  I  've 
not  only  found  my  horse,  but  I  Ve  saved  the  reward 
offered." 

"  You  have  n't  got  him  yet,"  said  Eufe.  "  I  guess 
Peakslow  will  have  something  to  say  about  that." 

"  What  he  says  won't  make  much  difference.  I  've 
only  to  prove  property,  and  take  possession.  A  stolen 
horse  is  the  owner's,  wherever  he  finds  him.  But  of 
course  I  '11  act  in  a  fair  and  open  way  in  the  matter ; 
I  '11  go  and  talk  with  Peakslow,  and  if  he  's  a  reason 
able  man  —  " 

"  Reasonable  ! "  interrupted  Wad.  "  He  holds  a 
sixpence  so  near  to  his  eye,  that  it  looks  bigger  to 
him  than  all  the  rest  of  the  world ;  he  can't  see  rea 
son,  nor  anything  else." 

"  I  11  make  him  see  it.  Will  you  go  and  intro 
duce  me  ? " 

"  You  'd  better  not  have  one  of  our  family  intro 
duce  you,  if  you  want  to  get  anything  out  of  Dud 
Peakslow  !  "  said  Eufe.  "  We  11  wait  here." 

Jack  got  over  the  fence,  and  walked  quickly  along 
on  the  Betterson  side  of  it,  followed  by  Lion,  until  he 
reached  the  road.  A  little  farther  down  was  a  house ; 
behind  the  house  was  a  yard ;  and  in  the  yard  was  a 
swarthy  man  with  a  high,  hooked  nose,  pulling  a 
wheel  off  a  wagon,  the  axletree  of  which,  on  that 
side,  was  supported  by  a  propped  rail.  Close  by  was 
a  boy  stirring  some  grease  in  a  pot,  with  a  long  stick. 

5* 


106  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

Jack  waited  until  the  man  had  got  the  wheel  off 
and  rested  it  against  the  wagon  ;  then  said,  — 

"  Is  this  Mr.  Peakslow  ? " 

"  That  happens  to  be  my  name,"  replied  the  man, 
scarcely  giving  his  visitor  a  glance,  as  he  turned  to 
take  the  stick  out  of  the  grease,  and  to  rub  it  on  the 
axletree. 

The  boy,  on  one  knee  in  the  dirt,  holding  the 
grease-pot  to  catch  the  drippings,  looked  up  and 
grinned  at  Jack. 

"  I  should  like  a  few  minutes'  talk  with  you,  Mr. 
Peakslow,  when  you  are  at  leisure,"  said  Jack,  hardly 
knowing  how  to  introduce  his  business. 

"  I  'm  at  leisure  now,  much  as  I  shall  be  to-day," 
said  Mr.  Peakslow  with  the  air  of  a  man  who  did  not 
let  words  interfere  with  work.  "  I  Ve  got  to  grease 
this  wagon,  and  then  harness  up  and  go  to  haulin'. 
I  have  n't  had  a  hoss  that  would  pull  his  share  of  a 
decent  load  till  now.  Tend  to  what  you  're  about, 
Zeph!" 

"  I  have  called  to  say,"  remarked  Jack  as  calmly  as 
he  could,  though  his  heart  was  beating  fast,  "  that 
there  is  a  horse  in  your  pasture  which  belongs  to 
me." 

The  man  straightened  his  bent  back,  and  looked 
blackly  at  the  speaker,  while  the  grease  dripped  from 
the  end  of  the  stick. 

"  A  hoss  in  my  pastur'  that  belongs  to  you  !  What 
do  ye  mean  by  that  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  you  have  n't  seen  this  handbill  ? "     And 


SNOWFOOT  S  NEW  OWNER. 


107 


Jack  took  the  printed  description  of  Snowfoot  from 
his  pocket,  unfolded  it,  and  handed  it  to  the  aston 
ished  Peakslow. 


THE  AMIABLE   MR.   PEAKSLOW. 


"'Twenty   dollars   reward,'"   he   read.      "'Stolen 
from  the  owner  —  a  light,  reddish  roan  hoss  —  white 


108  THE  YOUNG   SURVEYOR. 

forefeet  —  scar  low  down  on  the  near  side,  jest  be 
hind  the  shoulder  —  smaller  scar  on  the  off  hip.' 
What 's  the  meanin'  of  all  this  ? "  he  said,  glancing 
at  Jack. 

"  Is  n't  it  plain  enough  ? "  replied  Jack,  quietly 
standing  his  ground.  "  That  is  the  description  of  the 
stolen  horse ;  the  horse  is  down  in  your  pasture." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  I  've  stole  your  hoss  ? "  de 
manded  Peakslow,  his  voice  trembling  with  passion. 

"  Not  by  any  means.  He  may  have  passed  through 
a  dozen  hands  since  the  thief  had  him.  All  I  know 
is,  he  is  in  your  possession  now." 

"  And  what  if  he  is  ? " 

"  Why,  naturally  a  man  likes  to  have  what  is  his 
own,  does  n't  he  ?  Suppose  a  man  steals  your  horse  ; 
you  find  him  after  a  while  in  my  stable ;  is  he  your 
horse,  or  mine  ? " 

"  But  how  do  I  know  but  this  is  a  conspyracy  to 
cheat  me  out  of  a  hoss  ?  "  retorted  Peakslow,  looking 
again  at  the  handbill,  with  a  terrible  frown.  "  It 
may  have  all  been  cut  and  dried  aforehand.  You  've 
your  trap  sot,  and,  soon  as  ever  the  animal  is  in  my 
hands,  ye  spring  it.  How  do  I  know  the  hoss  is 
yourn,  even  if  ye  have  got  a  description  of  him  ? 
Anybody  can  make  a  description  of  anybody's  hoss, 
and  then  go  and  claim  him.  Besides,  how  happens 
it  a  boy  like  you  owns  a  hoss,  anyway  ? " 

In  a  few  words  Jack  told  his  story,  accounting  at 
once  for  his  ownership,  and  for  the  scars  on  the 
horse's  side  and  hip. 


SNOWFOOT'S  NEW  OWNER.  109 

"  There  are  two  other  scars  I  can  show  you,  under 
his  belly.  I  did  n't  mention  them  in  the  hand 
bill,  because  they  are  not  noticeable,  unless  one  is 
looking  for  them." 

"Ye  may  show  me  scars  all  over  him,  fur  's  I 
know,"  was  Peakslow's  reply  to  this  argument. 
"  That  may  prove  that  he  's  been  hurt  by  suth'n 
or  other,  —  elephant,  or  not ;  but  it  don't  prove  you 
ever  owned  him." 

"I  can  satisfy  you  with  regard  to  that,"  said  Jack, 
confidently.  "  Do  you  object  to  going  down  with  me 
and  looking  at  him  ? " 

"  Not  in  the  least,  only  wait  till  I  git  this  wheel 
on.  Ye  may  go  and  see  the  hoss  in  my  presence,  but 
ye  can't-  take  the  hoss,  without  I  'm  satisfied  you  've 
the  best  right  to  him." 

"  That 's  all  I  ask,  Mr.  Peakslow ;  I  want  only 
what  belongs  to  me.  If  you  are  a  loser,  you  must 
look  for  redress  to  the  man  who  sold  you  my  prop 
erty  ;  and  he  must  go  back  on  the  next  man." 

"  How  's  that  ? "  put  in  Zeph,  grinning  over  his 
grease-pot.  "  Pa  thinks  he  's  got  a  good  deal  better 
hoss  than  he  put  away ;  and  you  ain't  agoin'  to  crowd 
him  out  of  a  good  bargain,  I  bet ! " 

"  Hold  your  tongue  ! "  growled  Peakslow.  "  I  can 
fight  my  own  battles,  without  any  of  your  tongue.  I 
put  away  a  pooty  good  hoss,  and  I  gin  fifteen  dollars 
to  boot." 

"  What  man  did  you  trade  with  ?  "  Jack  inquired. 

"  A  truckman  in  Chicago.     He  liked  my  hoss,  and 


110  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

I  liked  hisn,  and  we  swapped.  He  wanted  twenty 
dollars,  I  offered  him  ten,  and  we  split  the  difference. 
He  won't  want  to  give  me  back  my  hoss  and  my 
money,  now;  and  ye  can't  blame  him.  And  the  next 
man  won't  want  to  satisfy  him.  Grant  the  hoss  is 
stole,  for  the  sake  of  the  argyment,"  said  Peakslow. 
"  I  maintain  that  when  an  animal  that 's  been  stole, 
and  sold,  and  traded,  finally  gits  into  an  honest  man's 
hands,  it  's  right  he  should  stay  there." 

"  Even  if  it 's  your  horse,  and  the  honest  man  who 
gets  him  is  your  neighbor  ? "  queried  Jack. 

"  I  do'no'  —  wal  —  yes  ! "  said  Peakslow.  "  It 's  a 
hard  case,  but  no  harder  one  way  than  t'  other." 

"  But  the  law  looks  at  it  in  only  one  way,"  replied 
Jack.  "And  with  reason.  Men  must  be  careful 
how  they  deal  with  thieves  or  get  hold  of  stolen 
property.  How  happens  it  that  you,  Mr.  Peakslow, 
did  n't  know  that  such  a  horse  had  been  stolen  ? 
Some  of  your  neighbors  knew  it  very  well." 

"Some  of  my  neighbors  I  don't  have  nothin'  to 
say  to,"  answered  Peakslow,  gruffly.  "  If  you  mean 
the  Bettersons,  they  're  a  pack  of  thieves  and  robbers 
themselves,  and  I  don't  swap  words  with  none  of  'em, 
without  't  is  to  tell  'em  my  mind ;  that  I  do,  when 
I  have  a  chance." 

"You  use  pretty  strong  language  when  you  call 
them  thieves  and  robbers,  Mr.  Peakslow." 

"  Strong  or  not,  it 's  the  truth.  Hain't  they  cheated 
me  out  o'  the  best  part  of  my  farm  ? " 

"  The  Bettersons  —  cheated  you ! "  exclaimed  Jack. 


SNOWTOOT'S  NEW  OWNER.  Ill 

They  were  now  on  the  way  to  the  pasture ;  and 
Peakslow,  in  a  sort  of  lurid  excitement,  pointed  to 
the  boundary  fence. 

"  My  line,  by  right,  runs  five  or  six  rod  t'  other 
side.  I  took  up  my  claim  here,  and  Betterson 
bought  hisn,  'fore  ever  the  guv'ment  survey  run 
through.  That  survey  fixed  my  line  'way  over 
yender  in  their  cornfield.  And  there  I  claim  it 
belongs,  to  this  day." 

"But,  Mr.  Peakslow,  how  does  it  happen  that  a 
man  like  Mr.  Betterson  has  been  able  to  rob  a  man 
like  you,  —  take  a  part  of  your  farm  before  your 
very  eyes  ?  He  is  a  rather  slack,  easy  man ;  while 
you,  if  I  'm  not  greatly  mistaken,  are  in  the  habit 
of  standing  up  for  your  rights." 

"  I  can  gin'ly  look  out  for  myself,"  said  Peakslow. 
"And  don't  suppose  that  Lord  Betterson  took  me 
down  and  put  his  hands  in  my  pockets,  alone." 

"Nine  men,  with  masks  on,"  cried  Zeph,  "come 
to  our  house  one  night,  and  told  pa  they  'd  jest  tear 
his  ruf  right  down  over  his  head,  and  drive  him  out 
of  the  county,  if  he  did  n't  sign  a  deed  givin'  Bet 
terson  that  land." 

"  Hold  your  yawp,  Zeph ! "  muttered  Peakslow. 
"  I  can  tell  my  own  story.  There  was  nine  of  'em, 
all  armed,  and  what  could  I  do  ? " 

"This  is  a  most  extraordinary  story!"  exclaimed 
Jack.  "  Did  you  sign  the  deed  ? " 

"  I  could  n't  help  myself,"  said  Peakslow. 

"  It  seems  to  me  I  would  have  helped  myself,  if 


112  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

the  land  was  rightfully  mine  !  "  cried  Jack.  "  They 
might  tear  my  house  down,  —  they  might  try  to  drive 
me  out  of  the  county,  —  I  don't  believe  I  would 
deed  away  my  land,  just  because  they  threatened 
me,  and  I  was  afraid." 

"It's  easy  to  talk  that  way,"  Peakslow  replied. 
"  But,  come  case  in  hand,  —  the  loaded  muzzles  in 
your  face,  —  you  'd  change  your  mind." 

"  Did  n't  they  pay  for  the  land  they  took  ? " 

"Barely  nothin';  jest  the  guv'ment  price;  dollar 
'n'  a  quarter  an  acre.  But  jest  look  at  that  land 
to-day,  —  the  best  in  the  State,  —  wuth  twenty  dol 
lars  an  acre,  if  't  is  a  cent." 

"  What  was  Betterson's  claim  ? "  Jack  asked  ;  "  for 
men  don't  often  do  such  things  without  some  sort 
of  excuse." 

"They  hild  that  though  the  survey  gin  me  the 
land,  it  was  some  Betterson  had  supposed  belonged 
to  his  purchase.  Meanwhile  he  had  j'ined  a  land- 
claim  society,  where  the  members  all  agreed  to  stand 
by  one  another;  and  that  was  the  reason  o'  their 
takin'  sich  high-handed  measures  with  me." 

Jack  was  inclined  to  cross-question  Peakslow,  and 
sift  a  little  this  astonishing  charge  against  Betterson 
and  the  land-claim  society.  But  they  had  now 
reached  the  pasture  bars,  and  the  question  relating 
to  the  ownership  of  the  horse  was  to  be  settled. 

The  Betterson  boys  were  still  sitting  on  the  fence, 
where  Jack  had  left  them ;  but  Snowfoot  had  re 
turned  to  his  grazing. 


SNOWFOOT'S  NEW  OWNER.  113 

"  Call  him,"  said  Jack.  "  If  he  does  n't  come  for 
you,  then  see  if  he  will  come  for  me." 

Peakslow  grumblingly  declined  the  test. 

"  He  does  n't  always  come  when  I  call  him,"  said 
Jack.  "I'll  show  you  what  I  do  then.  Here, 
Lion!" 

He  took  from  his  pocket  an  ear  of  corn  he  had 
picked  by  the  way,  placed  one  end  of  it  between 
the  dog's  jaws,  saying,  "  Bring  Snowfoot,  Lion !  bring 
Snowfoot ! "  and  let  him  through  the  bars. 

lion  trotted  into  the  pasture,  trotted  straight  up 
to  the  right  horse,  coaxed  and  coquetted  with  him 
for  a  minute,  and  then  trotted  back.  Snowfoot  fol 
lowed,  leering  and  nipping,  and  trying  to  get  the  ear 
of  corn. 

Lion  brought  the  ear  to  Jack,  and  Jack  gave  it 
to  Snowfoot,  taking  him  at  the  same  'time  by  the 
forelock. 

"What  do  you  think  of  that?"  he  said,  looking 
round  in  triumph  at  Peakslow. 

"  I  don't  see  as  it 's  anything  to  make  sich  a  fuss 
over,"  said  Peakslow,  looking  angrily  across  at  the 
spectators  on  the  boundary  fence,  as  they  cheered 
the  success  of  the  manoeuvre.  "It  shows  you've 
larnt  your  dog  tricks,  —  nothin'  more.  'Most  any 
hoss  would  foller  an  ear  of  corn  that  way." 

"  Why  did  n't  your  hoss  follow  it  ? " 

"  The  dog  did  n't  go  for  my  hoss." 

"  Why  did  n't  he  go  for  your  horse,  as  soon  as  for 
mine  ? "  urged  Jack. 

H 


114  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

To  which  Peakslow  could  only  reply,  — 

"  Ye  need  n't  let  down  the  top  bar ;  ye  can't  take 
that  hoss  through  !  I  traded  for  him,  and  paid  boot, 
and  you  've  got  to  bring  better  evidence  than  your 
say-so,  or  a  dog's  trick,  'fore  I  give  up  my  claim." 

"  I  '11  bring  you  evidence,"  said  Jack,  turning  away 
in  no  little  impatience  and  disgust. 

He  hastened  back  to  Mr.  Betterson's  house,  and 
was  met  by  the  boys  as  he  came  into  the  yard. 

"What  did  I  tell  you?"  said  Eufe.  "Couldn't 
get  him,  could  you?" 

"  No,  but  I  will ! "  replied  Jack,  untying  the  horse, 
which  he  had  left  hitched  to  an  oak-tree.  "  I  'm 
going  for  a  witness."  He  backed  the  wagon  around. 
"  Get  in,  if  you  like,"  —  to  Eufus. 

Eufus  did  like ;  and  the  two  rode  off  together,  to 
the  great  dissatisfaction  of  Wad  and  Link,  who  also 
wanted  to  go  and  see  the  fun. 


GOING  FOR  A  WITNESS.  115 


CHAPTER  XV. 

GOING  FOR  A  WITNESS. 

"DiD  Peakslow  say  anything  to  you  about  our 
folks  ? "  Rufe  asked. 

"I  rather  think  he  did!"  said  Jack;  and  he  re 
peated  the  story  of  the  land  robbery. 

Rufe  showed  his  contempt  for  it  by  a  scornful 
laugh.  "  1 11  tell  you  just  what  there  is  in  it ;  and 
it  will  show  you  the  sort  of  man  you  have  to  deal 
with.  We  have  n't  an  inch  of  his  land.  Do  you 
think  father  is  a  man  to  crowd  a  neighbor?" 

"  And  a  neighbor  like  Peakslow !  That 's  just 
what  I  told  him,"  said  Jack. 

"You  see,"  said  Rufe,  "these  claims  through  here 
were  all  taken  up  before  the  government  survey. 
Most  of  the  settlers  were  decent  men;  and  they 
knew  that  when  the  survey  came  to  be  made,  there 
would  be  trouble  about  the  boundaries,  if  they  did  n't 
take  measures  beforehand  to  prevent  it.  So  they 
formed  a  society  to  protect  each  other  against  squat 
ters  and  claim-jumpers,  and  particularly  to  settle  dis 
puted  boundary  questions  between  themselves.  They 
all  signed  a  paper,  agreeing  to  '  deed  and  redeed,'  — 
that  is,  if  your  land  adjoined  mine,  and  the  govern 
ment  survey  didn't  correspond  with  our  lines,  but 


116  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

gave  you,  for  instance,  a  part  of  the  land  I  had  im 
proved,  then  you  agreed  to  redeed  that  part  to  me, 
for  the  government  price ;  just  as  I  agreed  to  redeed 
to  my  neighbors  what  the  survey  might  give  me  of 
their  claims." 

"I  understand,"  said  Jack. 

"  Well,  father  and  almost  everybody  in  the  county 
joined  the  society ;  but  there  were  some  who  did  n't. 
Peakslow  was  one." 

"What  were  his  objections?" 

"  He  could  n't  give  any  good  ones.  All  he  would 
say  was, '  I  '11  see ;  I  '11  think  about  it.'  He  was  just 
waiting  to  see  if  there  was  any  advantage  to  be 
gained  over  his  neighbors  by  not  joining  with  them. 
Finally,  the  survey  came  through ;  and  the  men  run 
what  they  called  a  'random  line,'  which  everybody 
thought,  at  first,  was  the  true  line.  According  to 
that,  the  survey  would  have  given  us  a  big  strip  of 
Peakslow's  farm,  including  his  house  and  barn.  That 
frightened  him.  He  came  over,  and  shook  his  fist  in 
father's  face,  and  threatened  I  don't  know  what,  if  he 
took  the  land. 

"'You  really  think  I  ought  to  redeed  to  you  all 
your  side  of  our  old  line?'  says  father. 

" '  Of  course  I  do ! '  says  Peakslow.  '  It 's  mine ; 
you  Jiever  claimed  it ;  and  I  '11  shoot  the  fust  man 
who  sets  foot  on  't,  to  take  it  away  from  me.' 

"'Then,'  says  father,  'why  don't  you  join  the  soci 
ety,  and  sign  the  agreement  to  redeed,  with  the  rest 
of  us  ?  That  will  save  trouble.' 


GOING  FOR  A  WITNESS.  117 

"  So  Peakslow  rushed  off  in  a  fearful  hurry,  and 
put  his  name  to  the  paper.  Then  —  what  do  you 
think  ?  The  surveyors,  in  a  few  days,  run  the  cor 
rect  line,  and  that  gave  Peakslow  a  strip  of  our 
farm." 

"Capital!"   laughed  Jack. 

"  It  was  n't  capital  for  us  !  He  was  then,  if  you 
will  believe  it,  more  excited  than  when  the  boot 
seemed  to  be  on  the  other  leg.  He  vowed  that  the 
random  line  was  a  mere  pretence  to  get  him  to  sign 
the  agreement;  that  it  was  all  a  fraud,  which  he 
never  would  submit  to ;  that  he  would  n't  redeed, 
but  that  he  would  have  what  the  survey  gave  him. 
That 's  the  kind  of  man  he  is,"  added  Eufus. 

"  But  he  did  redeed  ? " 

"  Yes,  in  some  such  way  as  he  told  you.  The  dis 
pute  came  before  the  society  for  arbitration,  and  of 
course  the  decision  was  in  father's  favor.  But  Peak- 
slow  still  held  out,  and  talked  of  shooting  and  all 
that  sort  of  thing,  till  the  society  got  tired  of  his  non 
sense.  So,  one  night,  nine  men  did  give  him  a  call ; 
they  had  called  on  a  claim-jumper  down  the  river  a 
few  nights  before,  and  made  kindling-wood  of  his 
shanty ;  Peakslow  knew  it,  and  knew  they  were  not 
men  to  be  trifled  with.  They  told  him  that  if  lie  ex 
pected  to  live  in  the  county,  he  must  sign  the  deed. 
And  he  signed  it.  My  father  was  n't  one  of  the  men, 
but  Peakslow  turned  all  his  spite  against  him." 

"  He  imagines  he  has  been  wronged,"  said  Jack. 

"I  suppose  so,  for  he  is  one  of  that  kind  who 


118  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

never  can  see  any  side  to  a  quarrel  but  their  own. 
The  land  is  growing  more  valuable  every  year;  he 
covets  it  accordingly,  and  so  the  ferment  in  his  mind 
is  kept  up.  Of  course,"  Kufe  confessed,  "we  have 
done,  or  neglected  to  do,  a  good  many  things  which 
have  kept  adding  fuel  to  the  fire ;  for  it 's  impossible 
to  live  peaceably  alongside  of  such  a  selfish,  passion 
ate,  unreasonable  neighbor.  We  boys  have  taken  up 
the  quarrel,  and  now  I  owe  that  Zeph  a  cudgelling, 
for  hurting  Cecie." 

"How  did  he  hurt  her?" 

"We  had  a  swing  up  in  the  woods.  The  Peak- 
slows  are  always  interfering  in  our  affairs,  and,  one 
day,  when  Link  and  the  girls  went  to  swing,  they 
found  a  couple  of  little  Peakslows  there.  Link  drove 
'em  away,  and  they  went  off  bellowing  to  their  big 
brothers.  In  a  little  while  Zeph  came  along,  when 
Cecie  happened  to  be  in  the  swing;  and  he  pushed 
her  so  hard  that  she  fell  out." 

"  I  should  n't  think  cudgelling  him  would  give  you 
much  satisfaction,"  said  Jack.  "It  was  a  dreadful 
thing  to  happen !  But  did  he  intend  it  ? " 

"I  don't  think  he  is  sorry  for  it.  Father  went 
to  see  Mr.  Peakslow  about  it;  but  he  got  nothing 
but  abuse  from  him.  What  do  you  think  he  said  ? 
'  The  swing,'  says  he,  '  is  on  a  part  of  the  land  you 
robbed  me  of;  if  you  had  gin  me  what  the  guv'- 
ment  survey  did,  then  your  children  would  n't  have 
been  there,  and  the  thing  would  n't  have  occurred.' 
That  is  the  man  who  has  got  your  horse." 


GOING  FOR  A  WITNESS.  119 

Meanwhile,  they  had  driven  past  Peakslow's  house, 
proceeding  down  the  river  road ;  and  now  once  more 
Jack  reined  up  before  old  Wiggett's  cabin. 

At  the  sight  of  the  wagon  approaching  three  or 
four  half-naked  little  barbarians  ran  into  the  house, 
like  wild  creatures  into  their  hole,  giving  an  alarm 
which  brought  out  old  Wiggett  himself,  stooping 
through  the  low  doorway. 

"  Mr.  "Wiggett,  do  you  remember  me  ? "  said  Jack. 

"  Wai,  I  reckon !  "  said  the  old  man,  advancing  to 
the  wagon,  reaching  up,  and  giving  Jack's  hand  a 
hearty  shake.  "  You  're  the  young  chap  that  found 
my  section  corner." 

"  And  do  you  remember  my  horse  ? " 

"  I  low  I  oughter ;  for  your  elephant  story,  and 
the  scars  you  showed  me,  was  drea'ful  curl's.  I 
heard  the  hoss  was  stole." 

"He  was  stolen.  But  I  have  found  him;  and  I 
want  you  to  go  with  me  and  identify  him,  if  you  will 
be  so  good.  Mr.  Peakslow  has  him." 

"  Peakslow  ? "  said  the  old  man,  with  a  dubious 
shake  of  the  head.  "It's  nigh  about  the  easiest 
thing  in  the  world  to  git  into  trouble  with  Dud 
Peakslow.  I  gener'ly  go  my  way,  and  let  Peakslow 
go  hisn,  and  waste  few  words  on  him.  But  I  don't 
mind  gwine  with  ye,  if  ye  say  so.  How  did  Peak- 
slow  come  by  him  ? " 

Jack  told  the  story,  whilst  driving  back  to  Peak 
slow's  house.  There  he  left  Eufus  in  the  wagon,  and 
walked  on  with  Mr.  "Wiggett  into  the  barnyard. 


120  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 


CHAPTEE  XVL 

PEAKSLOW  GETS  A  QUIRK  IN  HIS  HEAD. 

PEAKSLOW  had  finished  greasing  his  wheels,  and 
was  about  harnessing  a  pair  of  horses  which  Zeph 
held  by  their  halters  at  the  door  of  a  log-stable. 
One  of  the  horses  was  Snowfoot. 

"  Please  wait  a  minute,  Mr.  Peakslow,"  said  Jack, 
turning  pale  at  the  sight.  "  I  've  brought  a  witness 
to  prove  my  property." 

Peakslow  looked  at  his  neighbor  Wiggett,  and 
gave  a  grunt. 

"  So  you  Ve  come  to  interfere  in  this  business,  hey?" 

Mr.  Wiggett  made  no  reply,  but  walked  up  to 
Snowfoot,  stroked  his  sides,  examined  the  scars, 
looked  at  him  before  and  behind,  and  nodded  slowly 
several  times.  Then  he  spoke. 

"  I  hain't  come  over  to  interfere  in  nobody's  busi 
ness,  Mr.  Peakslow.  But  I  happen  to  know  this  yer 
young  man ;  and  I  know  this  yer  hoss.  At  his  re 
quest,  I  Ve  come  over  to  say  so.  I  could  pick  out 
that  animal,  and  sw'ar  to  him,  among  ten  thousan'." 

"  What  can  you  swear  to  ? "  Peakslow  demanded, 
poising  a  harness. 

"  I  can  sw'ar  this  is  the  hoss  the  young  man  druv 
the  day  he  come  over  to  find  my  section  corner." 


PEAKSLOW  GETS  A  QUIRK  IN  HIS   HEAD.        121 

"That  all?" 

"  Is  n't  that  enough  ? "  said  Jack. 

"  No  ! "  said  Peakslow,  and  threw  the  rattling  har 
ness  upon  Snowfoot's  back.  "It  don't  prove  the 
hoss  belonged  to  you,  if  ye  did  drive  him.  And, 
even  though  he  did  belong  to  you,  it  don't  prove  but 
what  ye  sold  him  arterward,  and  then  pretended  he 
was  stole,  to  cheat  some  honest  man  out  of  his 
prop'ty.  Hurry  up,  boy !  buckle  them  hames." 
And  he  went  to  throw  on  the  other  harness. 

Jack  stepped  in  Zeph's  way.  "  This  is  my  horse, 
and  I  Ve  a  word  to  say  about  buckling  those  hames." 

"  Ye  mean  to  hender  my  work  ? "  roared  Peakslow, 
turning  upon  him.  "  Ye  mean  to  git  me  mad  ? " 

Jack  had  before  been  hardly  able  to  speak,  for 
his  rising  wrath  and  beating  heart;  but  he  was 
now  getting  control  of  himself. 

"I  don't  see  the  need  of  anybody's  getting  mad, 
Mr.  Peakslow.  There 's  a  right  and  a  wrong  in 
this  case ;  and  if  we  both  want  the  right,  we  shall 
agree." 

"Every  man  has  his  own  way  o'  lookin'  at  the 
right,"  said  Peakslow,  slightly  mollified.  "The 
right,  to  your  notion,  is  that  I  shall  give  ye  up 
the  hoss.  I  've  got  possession  of  the  hoss,  and  I 
mean  to  keep  possession ;  and  that 's  what 's  about 
right,  to  my  notion." 

"I  want  only  what  is  lawfully  my  own,"  Jack 
answered,  firmly.  "  If  you  want  what  is  n't  yours, 
that 's  not  right,  but  wrong.  There  's  such  a  thing 

6 


122  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

as  justice,  aside  from  our  personal  interest  in  a 
matter." 

Probably  Peakslow  had  never  thought  of  that. 

"  Wai,  what  ye  goin'  to  do  about  it  ? "  he  asked. 

"  I  am  going  to  have  my  horse,"  replied  Jack. 
"If  you  let  me  take  him  peaceably,  very  well.  If 
you  compel  me  to  go  to  law,  I  shall  have  him  all 
the  same,  and  you  will  have  the  costs  to  pay." 

Peakslow  winced.  The  threat  of  costs  touched 
him  in  his  tenderest  spot. 

"  How  's  that  ?  "  he  anxiously  asked. 

"  I  have  n't  been  about  the  country  looking  for 
my  horse,  without  knowing  something  of  the  law 
for  the  recovery  of  stolen  property,"  replied  Jack. 
"If  I  find  him  in  your  hands,  and  you  give  him 
up,  I  've  no  action  against  you.  If  you  hold  on  to 
him,  I  can  do  one  of  two  things.  I  can  go  to  a 
magistrate,  and  by  giving  bonds  to  an  amount  that 
will  cover  all  damages  to  you  or  anybody  else  if  I 
fail  to  make  good  my  claim,  get  out  a  writ  of  re 
plevin,  and  send  a  sheriff  with  it  to  take  the  horse. 
Or  I  can  let  you  keep  him,  and  sue  you  for  damages. 
In  either  case,  the  one  who  is  beaten  will  have  the 
costs  to  pay,"  Jack  insisted,  turning  the  screw  again 
where  he  saw  it  pinch. 

The  swarthy  brow  was  covered  with  perspiration, 
as  Peakslow  answered,  making  a  show  of  bluster,  — 

"I  can  fight  ye  with  the  law,  or  any  other  way, 
's  long  's  you  want  to  fight.  I  've  got  money.  Ye 
can't  scare  me  with  your  sheriffs  and  writs.  But 


PEAKSLOW   GETS  A   QUIRK  IN   HIS  HEAD.        123 

jest  look  at  it.  I  'm  to  be  throwed  out  of  a  boss 
at  a  busy  time  o'  year.  You'  wouldn't  like  tbat, 
Mr.  Wiggett  —  you  nor  nobody  else." 

"  No,"  said  Mr.  Wiggett,  who  stood  looking  on  in 
an  impartial  way,  "  it  mout  n't  feel  good,  I  allow. 
And  it  don't  seem  like  it  would  feel  much  better, 
to  have  to  stan'  by  and  see  a  hoss  that  was  stole 
from  me,  bein'  worked  by  a  neighbor.  This  yer 
young  man  tells  a  straightfor'ard  story,  and  there  's 
no  doubt  of  its  bein'  his  hoss.  You  've  no  doubt 
on't  in  your  own  mind,  Dudley  Peakslow.  If  he 
goes  to  law,  he  '11  bring  his  proofs,  —  he  's  got  friends 
to  back  him,  —  and  you  '11  lose.  Then  why  not 
come  to  a  right  understanding  and  save  right  smart 
o'  trouble  and  cost.  I  'low  that  '11  be  best  for  both." 

"  Wai,  what 's  your  idee  of  a  right  understaudin'  ? " 
said  Peakslow,  flushed  and  troubled,  turning  to  Jack. 
"  My  hoss  is  in  Chicago  —  that  is,  if  this  hoss  ain't 
mine.  I  might  go  in  and  see  about  gittin'  on  him 
back,  but  I  don't  want  to  spend  the  time,  'thout  I 
can  take  in  a  little  jag  o'  stuff;  and  how  can  I  do 
that,  if  you  break  up  my  team  ? " 

"  Mr.  Peakslow,"  replied  Jack,  quickly  making  up 
his  mind  what  he  would  do,  "while  I  ask  for  my 
rights,  I  don't  wish  to  put  you  or  any  man  to  an 
inconvenience."  He  took  Snowfoot  by  the  bridle. 
"Here  is  my  horse;  and,  with  Mr.  Wiggett  for  a 
witness,  I  make  you  this  offer :  you  may  keep  him 
one  week,  and  do  any  light  work  with  him  you 
please.  You  may  drive  him  to  Chicago,  and  use 


124  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

him  in  recovering  your  horse  from  the  truckman. 
But  mind,  you  are  to  be  responsible  for  him,  and 
bring  him  back  with  you.  Is  that  a  fair  proposal  ? " 

"  Wai,  I  do'no'  but  what 't  is ;  I  '11  think  on  't." 

"I  want  you  to  say  now,  in  Mr.  Wiggett's  pres 
ence,  whether  you  accept  it." 

"  I  '11  agree  to  bring  him  back ;  but  I  do'no'  'bout 
deliverin'  on  him  up  to  you,"  said  Peakslow. 

"  Leave  it  so,  then,"  replied  Jack,  with  a  confident 
smile.  "I  call  you  to  witness,  Mr.  Wiggett,  that 
the  horse  is  in  my  possession  now "  (he  still  held 
Snowfoot  by  the  bridle),  "and  that  I  lend  him  to 
Mr.  Peakslow.  Now  you  can  buckle  the  hames, 
Zeph,"  letting  go  the  bridle,  and  stepping  back. 

"Gi'  me  a  copy  o'  that  handbill,"  said  Peakslow. 
"  I  shall  want  that,  and  I  ought  to  have  a  witness 
besides,  to  make  the  truckman  hear  to  reason." 

"If  he  happens  to  be  an  unreasonable  man,"  said 
Jack,  with  a  smile,  "you  have  the  same  remedy 
which  I  have,  —  a  suit  for  damages.  I  don't  believe 
he  will  wait  for  that.  I  '11  see  you  in  one  week. 
Good-day,  Mr.  Peakslow." 

"  Looks  like  you  was  takin'  a  big  resk,  to  let  him 
drive  the  hoss  to  Chicago,"  Mr.  Wiggett  remarked 
confidentially,  following  Jack  out  of  the  yard. 

"I  don't  see  that  it  is,"  Jack  replied,  wiping  the 
sweat  from  his  forehead.  "  I  did  n't  wish  to  be 
hard  on  him.  It  does  men  good,  sometimes,  to 
trust  them." 

"Mabbe.     But  Dud  Peakslow  ain't  like  no  other 


PEAKSLOW  GETS  A  QUIRK  IS  HIS  HEAD.        125 

man  ye  ever  see.  He 's  got  some  quirk  in  his  head, 
or  he  never  'd  have  agreed  to  be  responsible  for  the 
hoss  and  bring  him  back ;  ye  may  bet  on  that.  He 
means  to  take  some  advantage.  Now  I  'm  interested 
in  the  case,  and  I  shall  hate  to  see  you  swindled." 

Jack  thanked  the  old  man  warmly ;  but  he  failed 
to  see  what  advantage  Peakslow  could  hope  to  gain. 

"  I  know  him  a  heap  better  'n  you  dew,"  said 
Mr.  Wiggett.  "Now,  it  struck  me,  when  he  said 
he  might  need  a  witness,  I  'd  offer  to  go  with  him 
to  Chicago.  I  could  help  him  with  the  truckman, 
and  mabbe  find  out  what  new  trick  he  's  up  tew. 
Anyhow,  I  could  look  arter  your  hoss  a  little." 

"  That  would  oblige  me  ever  so  much ! "  exclaimed 
Jack.  "But  I  see  no  reason  why  you  should  take 
that  trouble  for  me." 

"  I  take  a  notion  tew  ye,  in  the  fust  place.  Next 
place,  I  Ve  been  gwine  to  Chicago  for  the  past  tew 
weeks,  but  couldn't  somehow  git  started.  Now, 
banged  if  I  won't  go  in  with  Peakslow ! " 

Having  parted  with  Jack,  the  old  man  returned  to 
propose  the  arrangement  to  his  neighbor.  He  was 
just  in  time  to  hear  Peakslow  say  to  his  son,  — 

"  I  see  a  twist  in  this  matter  't  he  don't,  shrewd 
as  he  thinks  he  is.  If  I  lose  a  good  bargain,  I  'm 
bound  to  make  it  up  'fore  ever  this  hoss  goes  out 
of  my  hands.  You  ag'in,  Wiggett?" 

It  was  Mr.  Wiggett,  who  concluded  that  he  was 
quite  right  in  saying  that  Peakslow  had  a  quirk  in 
his  head. 


126  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR 


CHAPTEE  XVII. 

VINNIE  MAKES  A  BEGINNING. 

VINNIE  learned  only  too  soon  why  Jack  had 
dreaded  so  much  to  have  her  enter  the  Betterson 
household ;  and,  in  a  momentary  depression  of  spirits, 
she  asked  herself  whether,  if  she  had  known  all  she 
was  undertaking,  she  would  not  have  shrunk  from  it. 

The  sight  of  the  sick  ones,  the  mother  enfeebled  in 
mind  as  well  as  in  body,  Lord  Betterson  pompous 
and  complacent  in  the  midst  of  so  much  misery, 
little  Lill  alone  making  headway  against  a  deluge  of 
disorder,  —  all  this  filled  her  with  distress  and  dis 
may. 

She  could  think  of  no  relief  but  in  action. 

"  I  shall  stifle,"  thought  she,  "  unless  I  go  to  work 
at  once,  setting  things  to  rights." 

And  the  thought  of  helping  others  cheered  herself. 
'  She  needed  something  from  her  trunk.  That  was 
at  the  door,  just  where  Jack  had  left  it.  She  went 
out,  and  found  that  Chokie  had  changed  his  mind 
with  regard  to  digging  a  well,  and  was  building  a 
pyramid,  using  the  door-yard  sand  for  his  material,  a 
shingle  for  a  shovel,  and  the  trunk  for  a  foundation. 

"  Why,  Chokie  ! "  she  said ;  "what  are  you  doing  ? " 

"  I  makin'  a  Fourth-of-Duly,"  replied  Chokie,  flour- 


VINNIE  MAKES  A  BEGINNING.  127 

ishing  his  shingle.  "After  I  dit  it  about  twice  as 
bid  as  the  house,  I  doin'  to  put  some  powder  in  it, 
and  tout'th  it  off." 

"  0  dear  ! "  said  Vinnie ;  "  I  'm  afraid  you  '11  blow 
my  trunk  to  pieces;  and  I  must  have  my  trunk 
now ! " 

"  I  doin'  to  blow  it  to  pieces,  and  you  tan't  have 
it,"  cried  Chokie,  stoutly. 

"  But  I  've  something  for  you  in  it,"  said  Yinnie, 
"and  we  never  can  get  it  for  you,  if  you  touch  off 
your  Fourth-of-July  on  it." 

"  O,  wal,  you  may  dit  it."  And  he  began  to  shovel 
the  sand  off,  throwing  it  into  his  clothing,  into  the 
house,  and  some  into  Yinnie's  eyes. 

Lord  Betterson,  who  was  walking  leisurely  about 
his  castle,  now  came  forward,  and,  seeing  Vinnie  in 
some  distress,  inquired,  in  his  lofty  way,  if  he  could 
do  anything  for  her. 

"  If  you  please,"  she  replied,  laughing,  as  she 
brushed  the  sand  away  from  her  eyes,  "  I  should  like 
to  have  this  trunk  carried  in." 

Betterson  drew  himself  up  with  dignified  surprise ; 
for  he  had  not  meant  to  proffer  any  such  menial  ser 
vice.  Vinnie  perceived  the  little  mistake  she  had 
made ;  but  she  was  not  so  overpoweringly  impressed 
by  his  nobility  as  to  think  that  an  apology  was  due. 
She  even  permitted  herself  to  be  amused  ;  and,  retir 
ing  behind  the  sand  in  her  eyes,  which  she  made  a 
great  show  of  winking  and  laughing  away,  she  waited 
to  see  what  he  would  do. 


128  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

He  looked  around,  and  coughed  uncomfortably. 

"  Where  are  the  boys  ? "  he  asked.  "  This  —  hem 
—  is  very  awkward.  I  don't  know  why  the  trunk 
•was  left  here ;  I  directed  that  it  should  be  taken  to 
Cecie's  room."- 

Vinnie  mischievously  resolved  that  the  noble  Bet- 
terson  back  should  bend  beneath  that  burden. 

"  It  is  quite  light,"  she  said.  "  If  you  want  help, 
I  can  lift  one  end  of  it." 

The  implication  that  it  was  not  greatness  of  char 
acter,  but  weakness  of  body,  which  kept  Mm  above 
such  service,  touched  my  lord.  As  she,  at  the  same 
time,  actually  laid  hold  of  one  handle,  he  waived  her 
off,  with  ostentatious  gallantry. 

"  Permit  me  ! "  And,  with  a  smile  of  condescen 
sion,  which  seemed  to  say,  "The  Bettersons  are  not 
used  to  this  sort  of  thing ;  but  they  can  always  be 
polite  to  the  ladies,"  he  took  up  the  trunk  by  both 
handles,  and  went  politely  backward  with  it  into  the 
house,  a  performance  at  which  Jack  would  have 
smiled.  I  say  performance  advisedly,  for  Betterson 
showed  by  his  bearing,  lofty  and  magnificent  even 
under  the  burden,  that  this  was  not  an  ordinary  act 
of  an  ordinary  man. 

Having  set  down  the  trunk  in  its  place,  he  brushed 
his  fingers  with  a  soiled  handkerchief,  and  retired, 
exceedingly  flushed  and  puffy  in  his  tight  stock. 

Vinnie  thanked  him  with  charming  simplicity ; 
while  Cecie,  on  her  lounge,  laughed  slyly,  and  Mrs. 
Betterson  looked  amazed. 


VINNIE  MAKES  A  BEGINNING.  129 

"  Why,  Lavinia !  how  did  you  ever  dare  ? " 

"Dare  what?" 

"  To  ask  Mr.  Betterson  to  carry  your  trunk  ? " 


VINNIE'S  STRATAGEM. 


"  Why  not  ? "  said  Vinnie,  with  round  eyes. 
"  A  gentleman  like  him  !  and  a  Betterson !  "  replied 
Caroline,  in  a  whisper  of  astonishment  and  awe. 
6* 


130  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

"  Who  should  have  done  it  ? "  said  Vinnie,  trying 
hard  to  see  the  enormity  of  her  offence.  "  I  could  n't 
very  well  do  it  alone ;  I  am  sure  you  could  n't  have 
helped  me  ;  and  my  friend  who  brought  me  over,  he 
has  done  so  much  for  me  already  that  I  should  have 
been  ashamed  to  ask  him.  Besides,  he  is  not  here, 
and  I  wanted  the  trunk.  Mr.  Betterson  seems  very 
strong.  Has  he  the  rheumatism  ? " 

"  0  Lavinia !  Lavinia  ! "  —  and  Caroline  wrapped 
her  red  shawl  despairingly  about  her.  "  But  you 
will  understand  Mr.  Betterson  better  by  and  by. 
You  are  quite  excusable  now.  Arthur,  dear!  what 
do  you  want  ? " 

"  In  her  trunt,  what  she  's  doin'  to  dive  me,  I  want 
it,"  said  the  boy,  invading  the  house  for  that  purpose. 

"  Yes,  you  shall  have  it,"  cried  Vinnie,  skilfully 
giving  his  nose  a  wipe  behind  the  mother's  back  (it 
needed  it  sadly).  "  But  is  your  name  Arthur  ?  I 
thought  they  called  you  Chokie." 

"  Chokie  is  the  nickname  for  Arthur,"  Lill  ex 
plained. 

Vinnie  did  not  understand  how  that  could  be. 

"  It  is  the  boys'  invention ;  they  are  full  of  their 
nonsense,"  said  Caroline,  with  a  sorrowful  head- 
shake.  "  It  was  first  Arthur,  then  Artie,  then  Arti 
choke,  then  Chokie,  —  you  see  ? " 

Vinnie  laughed,  while  her  sister  went  on,  in  com 
plaining  accents, — 

"  I  tell  them  such  things  are  beneath  the  dignity 
of  our  family ;  but  they  will  have  their  fun." 


VINNIE  MAKES  A  BEGINNING.  131 

Yinnie  took  from  her  trunk  a  barking  dog  and  a 
candy  meeting-house,  which  made  Chokie  forget  all 
about  his  threatened  Fourth-of-July.  She  also  had  a 
pretty  worsted  scarf  of  many  colors  for  Lill,  and  a 
copy  of  Mrs.  Hemans's  Poems  —  popular  in  those 
days  —  for  Cecie. 

"  For  you,  sister  Caroline,"  she  added,  laughing, 
"I  have  brought  —  myself." 

"  This  book  is  beautiful,  and  I  love  poetry  so 
much  !  "  said  Cecie,  with  eyes  full  of  love  and  grati 
tude.  "  But  you  have  brought  mother  the  best 
present." 

"  0,  you  don't  know  about  that ! "  replied  Vinnie. 

"Yes,  I  do,"  said  Cecie,  with  a  smile  which 
seemed  to  tremble  on  the  verge  of  tears.  And  she 
whispered,  as  Vinnie  bent  down  and  kissed  her,  "  I 
love  you  already  ;  we  shall  all  love  you  so  much  ! " 

"  Dear  Cecie  !  "  murmured  Vinnie  in  the  little  in 
valid's  ear,  "  that  pays  me  for  coming.  I  am  glad  I 
am  here,  if  only  for  your  sake." 

"  I  dot  the  bestest  pwesents,"  cried  Chokie,  sitting 
on  the  floor  with  his  treasures.  "  Don't  tome  here, 
Lill ;  my  dod  will  bite  ! "  He  made  the  little  toy 
squeak  violently.  "  He  barks  at  folks  doin'  to  meet- 
in'.  Dim  me  some  pins." 

"  What  do  you  want  of  pins  ?  "  Vinnie  asked,  tak 
ing  some  from  her  dress. 

"  To  make  mans  and  womans  doin'  to  meetin'. 
One  dood  bid  black  pin  for  the  minister,"  said 
Chokie. 


132  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

Vinnie  helped  him  stick  up  the  pins  in  the  floor, 
and  even  found  the  required  big  black  one  to  head 
the  procession.  Then  she  pointed  out  the  extraordi 
nary  fact  of  the  dog  being  so  much  larger  than  the 
entire  congregation ;  at  which  even  the  sad  Caroline 
smiled,  over  her  sick  babe.  Chokie,  however,  gloried 
in  the  superior  size  and  prowess  of  the  formidable 
monster. 

Lill  was  delighted  with  her  scarf,  —  all  the  more 
so  when  she  learned  that  it  had  been  wrought  by 
Vinnie's  own  hand. 

"  O  Aunt  Vinnie  ! "  said  Cecie ;  "  will  you  teach 
me  to  do  such  work  ?  I  should  enjoy  it  so  much  — 
lying  here ! " 

"  With  the  greatest  pleasure,  my  dear ! "  exclaimed 
Vinnie,  her  heart  brimming  with  hope  and  joy  at 
sight  of  the  simple  happiness  her  coming  had 
brought. 

She  then  hastened  to  put  on  a  household  dress ; 
while  Cecie  looked  at  her  book,  and  Lill  sported  her 
scarf,  and  Chokie  earned  himself  a  new  nickname, 
—  that  of  Big-Bellied  Ben,  —  by  making  a  feast  of 
his  meeting-house,  beginning  with  the  steeple. 


VINNIE'S  NEW  RROOM.  133 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 
VINNIE'S  NEW   BROOM. 

RETURNING  from  his  interview  with  Mr.  Peakslow, 
Jack  drove  up  on  the  roadside  before  the  "castle," 
asked  Rufe  to  hold  the  horse  a  minute,  and  ran  to 
the  door  to  bid  Vinnie  good  by. 

"  Here,  Link ! "  Rufe  called,  "  stand  by  this  horse ! " 

"  I  can't,"  answered  Link  from  the  wood-pile,  "  I  've 
got  to  get  some  wood,  to  make  a  fire,  to  heat  some 
water,  to  dip  the  chickens,  to  loosen  their  feathers, 
and  then  to  cook  'em  for  dinner." 

"  Never  mind  the  wood  and  the  chickens  and  feath 
ers  !  Come  along ! " 

"I  guess  I  will  mind,  and  I  guess  I  won't  come 
along,  for  you,  or  anybody,  for  she  asked  me  to." 

"She?    Who?"  " 

"  Aunt  Vinnie ;  and,  I  tell  you,  she  's  real  slick." 
And  Link  slashed  away  at  the  wood  with  an  axe ;  for 
that  was  the  Betterson  style,  —  to  saw  and  split  the 
sticks  only  as  the  immediate  necessities  of  the  house 
required. 

Rufe  might  have  hitched  the  horse,  but  he  was  not 
a  fellow  to  give  himself  any  trouble  that  could  well 
be  avoided ;  and  just  then  he  saw  Wad  coming  out 
of  the  yard  with  two  pails. 


134  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

Wad,  being  cordially  invited  to  stay  and  hold  the 
horse,  also  declined,  except  on  condition  that  Eufe 
should  himself  go  at  once  to  the  spring  for  water. 

"  Seems  to  me  you  're  in  a  terrible  pucker  for  wa 
ter  ! "  said  Eufe.  "  Two  pails  ?  what 's  the  row, 
Wad  ? "  For  it  was  the  time-honored  custom  of  the 
boys  to  piit  off  going  for  water  as  long  as  human 
patience  could  endure  without  it,  and  never,  except 
in  great  emergencies,  to  take  two  pails. 

" She  asked  me  to,  and  of  course  I  'd  go  for  her" 
said  Wad.  "She  has  gone  into  that  old  kitchen, 
and,  I  tell  you,  she  '11  make  things  buzz ! " 

Meanwhile  Jack  had  gone  straight  to  the  said 
kitchen,  —  much  to  Mrs.  Betterson's  dismay,  —  and 
found  Vinriie  in  a  neat  brown  dress,  with  apron  on 
and  sleeves  pinned  up.  He  thought  he  had  never 
seen  her  look  so  bright  and  beautiful. 

"  At  work  so  soon ! "  he  exclaimed. 

"  The  sooner  the  better,"  she  replied.  "  Don't  look 
around  you ;  my  sister  is  sick,  you  know." 

"  I  won't  hinder  you  a  minute,"  Jack  said.  "  I  just 
ran  in  to  tell  you  the  good  news  about  my  horse,  — 
though  I  suppose  you  've  heard  that  from  the  boys, 
—  and  to  say  good  by,  —  and  one  word  more  ! "  low 
ering  his  voice.  "  If  anything  happens,  —  if  it  is  n't 
pleasant  for  you  to  be  here,  you  know,  —  there  is  a 
home  at  Mrs.  Lanman's;  it  will  be  always  waiting 
for  you." 

"  I  thank  you  and  Mrs.  Lanrnan  very  much  ! "  said 
Vinnie,  with  a  trembling  lip.  "  But  I  mean  to  make 


VINNIE'S  NEW  BROOM.  135 

things  pleasant  here,"  a  smile  "breaking  through  the 
momentary  trouble  of  her  face. 

Jack  declined  an  urgent  invitation  to  stay  and  see 
what  sort  of  a  dinner  she  could  get. 

"  By  the  way,"  he  whispered,  as  she  followed  him 
to  the  door,  "  who  carried  in  that  trunk  ? "  When 
she  told  him,  he  was  hugely  delighted.  "You  will 
get  along!  Here  comes  Eufe.  Rufus,  this  is  your 
Aunt  Vinnie." 

Kufus  (who  had  finally  got  Chokie  to  hold  the 
horse's  halter)  blushed  to  the  roots  of  his  hair  at 
meeting  his  relative,  and  finding  her  so  very  youth 
ful  (I  think  it  has  already  been  said  that  the  aunt 
was  younger  than  the  nephew),  and  altogether  so 
fresh  and  charming  in  her  apron  and  pinned-up 
sleeves. 

She  smilingly  gave  him  her  hand,  which  he  took 
rather  awkwardly,  and  said, — 

"  How  d'  'e  do,  Aunt  Lavinia.  I  suppose  I  must 
call  you  aunt." 

"  Call  me  just  Vinnie ;  the  idea  of  my  being  aunt 
to  young  men  like  you!" 

There  was  a  little  constraint  on  both  sides,  which 
Link  relieved  by  pushing  between  them  with  a  big 
armful  of  wood. 

"Well,  good  by,"  said  Jack.  "She  will  need  a 
little  looking  after,  Rufus ;  see  that  she  does  n't  work 
too  hard." 

"  You  are  not  going  to  work  hard  for  us ! "  said 
Rufus,  with  some  feeling,  after  Jack  was  gone. 


136  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

"  That  depends,"  Vinnie  replied.  "  You  can  make 
things  easy  for  me,  as  I  am  sure  you  will" 

"  Of  course ;  just  let  me  know  if  they  don't  go 
right.  Call  on  Link  or  Wad  for  anything;  make 
'em  stand  round." 

Vinnie  smiled  at  Rufe's  willingness  to  have  his 
brothers  brought  into  the  line  of  discipline. 

"  They  are  both  helping  me  now.  But  I  find  there 
are  no  potatoes  in  the  house,  and  I  've  been  wonder 
ing  who  would  get  them.  Lill  says  they  are  to  be 
dug  in  the  field,  and  that  she  digs  them  sometimes ; 
but  that  seems  too  bad ! " 

"  That 's  when  Wad  and  Link  —  there  's  no  need 
of  her  —  I  don't  believe  in  girls  digging  potatoes ! " 
Rufe  stammered. 

"0,  but  you  know,"  cried  Lill,  "sometimes  we 
should  n't  have  any  potatoes  for  dinner  if  I  did  n't  go 
and  dig  them !  I  don't  care,  only  it 's  such  "hard 
work ! " 

Vinnie  looked  admiringly  at  the  bright,  brave  little 
girl.  Eufe  colored  redder  than  ever,  and  said, — 

"  Don't  you,  now,  do  such  a  thing !  Only  let  me 
know  in  season  what 's  wanted ;  I  '11  be  after  those 
boys  with  a  sharp  stick!" 

Vinnie  couldn't  help  laughing. 
.  "  So,  when  we  're  going  to  want  a  handful  of  wood, 
a  pail  of  water,  or  a  basket  of  potatoes,  I  am  to  go 
for  you,  and  you  will  go  for  the  boys,  and  drive  them 
up  with  your  sharp  stick !  I  don't  think  I  shall  like 
that.  Would  n't  it  be  better  for  you  to  see  that  there 


VTNNIE'S  NEW  BROOM.  137 

are  always  potatoes  in  the  bin,  and  wood  in  the  box, 
and  other  things  on  hand  that  you  know  will  be 
needed  ? " 

It  was  perhaps  quite  as  much  her  winning  way  as 
the  good  sense  of  this  appeal  which  made  it  irre 
sistible. 

"  Of  course  it  would  be  better !  I  '11  get  you  a 
basket  of  potatoes  now,  and  some  green  corn,  and 
I  '11  look  out  for  the  water  and  wood." 

"0,  thank  you!"  said  Vinnie.  "That  will  make 
things  so  much  easier  and  pleasanter  for  all  of 
us!" 

The  potatoes  and  corn  were  got  with  a  cheerful 
alacrity  which  quite  astonished  Kufe's  mother  and 
sisters. 

The  inertia  of  a  large  body  being  thus  overcome, 
that  well-known  property  of  matter  tended  to  keep 
Eufus  still  in  motion ;  and  while  Vinnie,  with  Lill's 
help,  was  getting  the  dinner  ready,  he  might  have 
been  seen  approaching  the  wood-pile  with  an  eye  to 
business. 

"  See  here,  Wad !  This  wood  is  pretty  dry  now ; 
don't  you  think  it  had  better  be  cut  up  and  got  in 
before  there  comes  a  rain?" 

"Yes,  s'pose  'twould  be  a  good  idea." 

"We  ought  to  be  ashamed,"  Rufe  went  on,  "to 
have  her  calling  for  a  handful  of  wood  every  time 
it 's  wanted,  or  going  out  to  hack  a  little  for  herself, 
if  we  're  not  around ;  for  she  '11  do  it." 

"  I  s'pose  so,"  Wad  assented.     "  Why  don't  you  go 


138  THE  YOUNG   SURVEYOR. 

to  work  and  cut  it  up  ?  I  '11  sit  down  on  a  log  and 
whittle,  and  keep  you  company." 

"  Pshaw  !  don't  talk  that  way.  I  '11  go  to  work  at 
it  if  you  will.  Come !  Will  you  saw,  or  split  ? " 

Wad  laughed,  and  said  he  would  split,  —  perhaps 
because  the  sawing  must  be  done  first. 

"  This  saw  is  in  a  frightful  condition ! "  Eufe  said, 
stopping  to  breathe  after  sawing  a  few  sticks. 

"  So  is  this  axe ;  look  at  the  edge  !  It 's  too  dull 
even  to  split  with,"  said  Wad.  "  A  small  boy  might 
ride  to  mill  on  it  without  suffering  any  very  great 
inconvenience." 

"  If  father  would  only  file  and  set  this  saw,  I  'd 
help  you  grind  the  axe,"  said  Eufe. 

The  paternal  Betterson  was  just  then  returning 
from  a  little  walk  about  his  estate.  As  he  ap 
proached,  hat  in  hand,  wiping  his  noble  forehead, 
under  the  shade  of  the  oaks,  Rufe  addressed  him. 

"  We  've  got  to  have  wood  in  the  house ;  now 
she  's  come,  it  won't  do  to  get  it  by  little  driblets, 
and  have  her  waiting  for  it  and  worrying  about  it. 
I  '11  saw  it,  if  you  '11  only  set  the  saw ;  you  know 
how,  and  I  don't ;  we  '11  do  the  hard  work  if  you  '11 
furnish  a  little  of  your  skill." 

Eufe  knew  how  to  appeal  to  the  paternal  vanity. 
The  idea  of  furnishing,  not  labor,  but  skill,  flattered 
my  lord. 

"  Ah !  let  me  look  at  the  saw.  And  bring  me  the 
file.  And  set  out  the  shave-horse.  I  '11  show  you 
how  the  thing  is  done." 


VINNIE'S  NEW  BROOM.  139 

When  Link,  who  in  the  mean  while  had  been 
dressing  the  prairie  chickens  behind  the  house,  came 
round  and  saw  his  pompous  papa  sitting  under  an 
oak-tree,  astride  the  "shave-horse,"  filing  away  at 
the  saw  held  in  its  clumsy  jaws,  and  Wad  turning 
the  grindstone  close  by,  while  Eufe  held  on  the  axe, 
he  ran  into  the  house  laughing. 

"  Mother !  just  look  out  there !  Father  and  Eufe 
and  Wad  all  at  work  at  once !  Guess  the  world 's 
coming  to  an  end!" 

"I  hope  some  of  our  troubles  are  coming  to  an 
end,"  sighed  poor  Mrs.  Betterson,  who  sat  nursing 
her  babe  with  a  bottle.  "It's  all  owing  to  her. 
A  new  broom  sweeps  clean.  She  brings  a  very 
good  influence ;  but  I  can't  hope  it  will  last." 

"0  mother!"  said  Cecie,  from  her  lounge,  "don't 
say  that.  I  am  sure  it  will  last ;  she  is  so  good ! 
You  '11  do  all  you  can  for  her,  won't  you,  Link  ? " 

"  I  bet ! "  was  Link's  laconic  response.  "  If  they 
only  will,  too,  for  there  ain't  much  fun  in  doing 
chores  while  father  and  Eufe  and  Wad  are  just 
loafing  round." 

He  hastened  to  Yinnie  with  his  chickens. 

"  Just  look  out  there  once !  All  at  it !  Ain't  it 
fun?" 

It  was  fun  to  Vinnie,  indeed. 


140  THE  YOUNG   SURVEYOR. 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

LINK'S  WOOD-PILE. 

THE  dinner,  though  late  that  day,  was  unusually 
sumptuous,  and  Betterson  and  his  boys  brought  to 
it  keen  appetites  from  their  work.  Vinnie's  cooking 
received  merited  praise,  and  the  most  cordial  good 
will  prevailed.  Even  little  Chokie,  soiling  face  and 
fingers  with  a  "  drum-stick  "  lie  was  gnawing,  lisped 
out  his  commendation  of  the  repast. 

"I  wish  Aunt  Vinnie  would  be  here  forever,  and 
div  us  dood  victuals." 

"  I  second  the  motion ! "  cried  Link,  sucking  a 
"wish-bone,"  and  then  setting  it  astride  his  nose, 
—  "to  dry,"  as  he  said. 

"One  would  think  we  never  had  anything  fit  to 
eat  before,"  said  Mrs.  Betterson;  while  my  lord 
looked  flushed  and  frowning  over  his  frayed  stock. 

"  You  know,  mother,"  said  Lill,  "  I  never  could 
cook  prairie  chickens.  And  you  have  n't  been  well 
enough  to,  since  the  boys  began  to  shoot  them." 

"  Lincoln,"  said  Mrs.  Betterson,  "  remove  that  un 
sightly  object  from  your  nose !  Have  you  forgotten 
your  manners  ? " 

"  He  never  had  any ! "  exclaimed  Eufe,  snatching 
the  wish-bone  from  its  perch. 


LINK'S  WOOD-PILE.  141 

"Here!  give  that  back!  I'm  going  to  keep  it, 
and  wish  with  Cecie  bimeby,  and  we  're  both  going 
to  wish  that  Aunt  Vinnie  had  come  here  a  year  ago 
—  that  is  —  I  mean  —  pshaw !  "  said  Link,  whose 
ideas  were  getting  rather  mixed. 

Poor  Mrs.  Betterson  complained  a  great  deal  to 
her  sister  that  afternoon  of  the  impossibility  of 
keeping  up  the  style  and  manners  of  the  family 
in  that  new  country. 

Vinnie  —  who  sat  holding  the  baby  by  Cecie's 
lounge  —  asked  why  the  family  had  chosen  that 
new  country. 

"Mr.  Betterson  had  been  unfortunate  in  business 
at  the  East,  and  it  was  thought  best  that  he  should 
try  Illinois,"  was  Caroline's  way  of  stating  that  after 
her  husband  had  run  through  two  small  fortunes 
which  had  fallen  to  him,  and  exhausted  the  patience 
of  relatives  upon  whom  he  was  constantly  calling 
for  help,  a  wealthy  uncle  had  purchased  this  farm 
for  him,  and  placed  him  on  it  to  be  rid  of  him. 

"  I  should  think  you  might  sell  the  farm  and  move 
away,"  said  Vinnie. 

"There  are  certain  obstacles,"  replied  Caroline; 
the  said  uncle,  knowing  that  Lord  could  not  keep 
property  from  flying  away,  having  shrewdly  tied 
this  down  by  means  of  a  mortgage. 

"One  thing,"  Caroline  continued,  "I  have  always 
regretted.  A  considerable  sum  of  money  fell  to 
Mr.  Betterson  after  we  came  here ;  and  he  —  wisely, 
we  thought  at  the  time,  but  unfortunately,  as  it 


142  THE  YOUNG   SURVEYOR. 

proved  —  put  it  into  this  house.  "We  expected  to 
have  a  large  part  of  it  left ;  but  the  cost  of  building 
was  such  that  all  was  absorbed  before  the  house  was 
finished." 

Such  was  Caroline's  account  of  the  manner  in 
which  the  "  castle  "  came  to  be  built.  Vinnie  was 
amazed  at  the  foolish  vanity  and  improvidence  of 
the  lord  of  it;  but  she  only  said, — 

"There  seems  to  be  a  great  deal  of  unused  room 
in  the  house ;  I  should  think  you  might  let  that, 
and  a  part  of  the  farm,  to  another  family." 

Caroline  smiled  pityingly. 

"Lavinia  dear,  you  don't  understand.  We  could 
never  think  of  taking  another  family  into  our  house, 
for  the  sake  of  money  !  though  it  might  be  well  to 
let  the  farm.  Besides,  there  is  really  one  more  in 
the  family  than  you  see.  I  think  I  have  n't  yet 
spoken  to  you  of  Radcliff,  —  my  husband's  nephew." 

"You  mentioned  such  a  person  in  your  letter  to 
me,"  replied  Vinnie. 

"  Ah,  yes ;  when  I  was  giving  some  of  the  reasons 
why  we  had  never  had  you  come  and  live  with  us. 
Well  off  as  we  were  at  one  time,  —  and  are  now  in 
prospect,  if  not  in  actual  appearance,  —  we  could 
not  very  well  take  you  as  a  child  into  our  family, 
if  we  took  Radcliff.  He  was  early  left  an  orphan, 
and  it  was  thought  best  by  the  connections  that  he 
should  be  brought  up  by  my  husband.  I  assure 
you,  Lavinia,  that  nobody  but  a  Betterson  should  ever 
have  been  allowed  to  take  your  place  in  our  family." 


LINK'S  WOOD-PILE.  143 

Vinnie  pictured  to  herself  a  youth  of  precious 
qualities  and  great  promise,  and  asked, — 

"  Where  is  Radcliff  now  ? " 

"  He  is  not  with  us  just  at  present.  He  is  of  age, 
and  his  own  master;  and  though  we  make  a  home 
for  him,  he  's  away  a  good  deal." 

"  What  is  his  business  ? " 

"  He  has  no  fixed  pursuit.  He  is,  in  short,  a  gen 
tleman  at  large." 

"  What  supports  him  ?  " 

"He  receives  a  limited  allowance  from  our  rela 
tives  on  the  Betterson  side,"  said  Caroline,  pleased 
•with  the  interest  her  sister  seemed  to  take  in  the 
illustrious  youth.  "He  is  not  so  stylish  a  man  as 
my  husband,  by  any  means ;  my  husband  is  a  Bet 
terson  of  the  Bettersons.  But  Eadcliff  has  the  blood, 
and  is  very  aristocratic  in  his  tastes." 

Caroline  enlarged  upon  this  delightful  theme,  until 
Cecie  (who  seemed  to  weary  of  it)  exclaimed,  — 

"  O  mother,  do  see  how  Aunt  Vinnie  soothes  the 
baby!" 

Indeed,  it  seemed  as  if  the  puny  thing  must  have 
felt  the  flood  of  warmth  and  love  from  Vinnie's  heart 
bathing  its  little  life. 

That  afternoon  Eufe  and  Wad  sawed  and  split  the 
wood,  and  Link  (with  Chokie's  powerful  assistance) 
carried  it  into  an  unfinished  room  behind  the  kitchen, 
—  sometimes  called  the  "  back-room,"  and  sometimes 
the  "  lumber-room,"  —  and  corded  it  up  against  the 
wall.  An  imposing  pile  it  was,  of  which  the  young 


144 


THE  YOUNG   SURVEYOR. 


architect  was  justly  proud,  no  such  sight  ever  having 
been  seen  in  that  house  before. 


LINK'S  WOOD-PILE. 


Every  ten  or  fifteen  minutes  he  called  Vinnie  or 
Lill  to  see  how  the  pile  grew  ;  and  at  last  he  insisted 
on  bringing  Cecie,  and  letting  her  be  astonished. 

Cecie  was  only  too  glad  of  any  little  diversion. 


LINK'S  WOOD-PILE.  145 

She  could  walk  with  a  good  deal  of  assistance ;  Vinnie 
almost  lifted  the  poor  girl  in  her  loving  arms  ;  Link 
supported  her  on  the  other  side ;  and  so  they  bore 
her  to  the  back-room,  where  she  leaned  affection 
ately  on  Vinnie,  while  Link  stood  aside  and  pointed 
proudly  at  his  wood-pile. 

"  We  never  could  get  him  to  bring  in  a  stick  of 
wood  before,  without  teasing  or  scolding  him,"  said 
LilL 

"  This  is  different ;  there 's  some  fun  in  this," 
said  Link.  "  Eufe  and  Wad  have  been  at  work  like 
sixty ;  and  we  wanted  to  see  how  big  a  pile  we  could 
make." 

All  praised  the  performance;  and  Mrs.  Betterson 
so  far  forgot  herself  as  to  say  she  felt  rich  now,  with 
so  much  nice,  dry,  split  wood  in  the  house. 

"  But  what  a  remark,"  she  added  immediately, 
turning  to  Vinnie,  "  for  one  of  our  family  to  make  ! " 

"  I  was  never  so  proud  of  my  brothers  ! "  said 
Cecie.  "  If  I  was  only  well  enough,  how  I  should  like 
to  help  pile  up  that  wood  ! " 

"  Dear  Cecie  !  "  cried  Vinnie,  embracing  her,  "  I 
wish  you  were  well  enough !  And  I  hope  you  will 
be  some  time." 

The  wood  was  all  disposed  of  that  afternoon,  and 
the  boys  concluded  that  they  had  had  a  pretty  good 
time  over  it. 

"  Now  we  can  loaf  for  a  whole  week,  and  make  a 
business  of  it,"  said  Wad. 

"  There  's  one  more  job  that  ought  to  be  done," 

7  j 


146  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

said  Eufe.  "  That  potato-patch.  We  can't  keep  the 
pigs  out  of  it,  and  it  's  time  the  potatoes  were  dug." 

"  I  s'pose  so,"  said  Wad.  "  Wish  we  had  a  hired 
man." 

"  It  is  n't  much  of  a  job,"  said  Eufe.  "  And  we 
don't  want  to  be  seen  loafing  round,  now  she  's  here." 

"  We  can  go  up  in  the  woods  and  loaf,"  said  Wad. 

"  Don't  talk  silly,"  said  Eufe.  "  Come,  I  '11  go  at 
the  potatoes  to-morrow,  if  you  will.  We  '11  dig,  and 
make  Link  pick  'em  up." 

"  I  was  going  to  shoot  some  more  prairie  chickens 
to-morrow.  We  've  no  other  meat  for  dinner." 

"We  '11  get  father  to  shoot  them.  Come,  Wad, 
what  do  you  say  ?  " 

Wad  declined  to  commit  himself  to  an  enterprise 
requiring  so  large  an  outlay  of  bone  and  muscle.  All 
Eufe  could  get  from  him  was  a  promise  to  "  sleep  on 
the  potatoes  "  and  say  what  he  thought  of  them  in 
morning. 

The  next  morning  accordingly,  before  the  cattle 
were  turned  out  of  the  yard,  Eufe  said,  — 

"  Shall  we  yoke  up  the  steers  and  take  the  wagon 
down  into  the  potato-patch  ?  We  can  be  as  long  as 
we  please  filling  it." 

"  Yes,  we  may  as  well  take  it  down  there  and  leave 
it,"  Wad  assented  ;  and  the  steers  were  yoked  accord 
ingly- 

Lord  Betterson  was  not  surprised  to  see  the  wagon 
go  to  the  potato-patch,  where  he  thought  it  might  as 
well  stay  during  the  rest  of  the  season,  as  anywhere 


LINK'S  WOOD-PILE.  147 

else.  But  he  was  surprised  afterward  to  see  the  three 
boys  —  or  perhaps  we  should  say  four,  for  Chokie 
was  of  the  party  —  start  off  with  their  hoes  and 
baskets. 

"  We  are  going  to  let  you  shoot  the  prairie  chickens 
this  forenoon,"  said  Eufe.  "  You  '11  find  the  gun  and 
ammunition  all  ready,  in  the  back-room.  We  are 
going  at  the  potatoes." 

Link  went  ahead  and  pulled  the  tops,  and  after 
ward  picked  up  the  potatoes,  filling  the  baskets, 
which  his  brothers  helped  him  carry  off  and  empty 
into  the  wagon-box ;  while  Chokie  dug  holes  in  the 
black  loam  to  his  heart's  content. 

"  We  might  have  had  a  noble  crop  here,"  said  Eufe, 
"  if  it  had  n't  been  for  the  weeds  and  pigs.  Wad,  we 
must  n't  let  the  weeds  get  the  start  of  us  so  another 
year.  And  we  '11  do  some  repairs  on  the  fences  this 
fall.  I  'm  ashamed  of  'em ! " 


148  THE  YOUNG   SURVEYOR. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

MORE  WATER  THAN  THEY  WANTED. 

A  DOCTOR  from  North  Mills  came  once  a  week  to 
visit  Cecie  and  the  sick  mother  and  baby.  One  after 
noon  he  brought  in  his  chaise  a  saddle  and  bridle, 
which  he  said  a  young  fellow  would  call  for  in  a  day 
or  two.  The  boys  laughed  as  they  put  the  saddle 
away ;  they  knew  who  the  young  fellow  was,  and 
they  hoped  he  would  have  a  chance  to  use  it. 

Snowfoot's  week  was  up  the  next  forenoon ;  and  at 
about  ten  o'clock  Jack,  accompanied  by  Lion,  and 
carrying  a  double-barrelled  fowling-piece,  with  which 
he  had  shot  a  brace  of  prairie  hens  by  the  way, 
walked  into  the  Betterson  door-yard. 

He  found  the  boys  at  the  lower  end  of  the  house, 
with  the  steers  and  wagon. 

"  "What 's  the  news  ? "  he  asked. 

"  The  news  with  us  is,  that  we  're  out  of  rain 
water,"  Eufe  replied. 

"  I  should  think  so,"  said  Jack,  looking  into  a  dry 
hogshead  which  stood  under  the  eaves-spout. 

"  It 's  too  much  of  a  bother  to  bring  all  our  water 
by  the  pailful.  So  we  are  going  to  fill  these  things 
at  the  river  and  make  the  steers  haul  'em." 

There  were   three  wash-tubs  and  a  barrel,  which 


MORE  WATER  THAN  THEY  WANTED.     149 

the  boys  were  putting  up  on  the  bottom  boards  of  the 
wagon-box,  from  which  the  sides  had  been  removed. 

Jack  was  pleased  with  this  appearance  of  enter 
prise  ;  he  also  noticed  with  satisfaction  that  the  yard 
had  been  cleared  up  since  he  last  saw  it. 

He  asked  about  Vinnie,  and  learned  from  the  looks 
and  answers  the  boys  gave  him  that  she  was  popular. 

"  Your  saddle  came  yesterday,"  said  Wad ;  "  so  I 
s'pose  you  expect  to  ride  home." 

"  I  feel  rather  inclined  that  way.  How  is  our 
friend  Peakslow  ? " 

"  Don't  know  ;  he  went  to  Chicago,  and  he  has  n't 
got  back." 

"  Has  n't  got  back ! "  said  Jack,  astonished.  "  That 's 
mean  business ! " 

He  smothered  his  vexation,  however,  and  told  the 
boys  that  he  would  go  with  them  to  the  river,  after 
he  had  spoken  with  Vinnie. 

Entering  the  house,  he  was  still  more  surprised  at 
the  changes  which  had  taken  place  since  his  last  visit. 

"  Her  coming  has  been  the  greatest  blessing  ! "  said 
Caroline,  detaining  him  in  the  sitting-room.  "  We 
are  all  better,  —  the  doctor  noticed  it  yesterday ; 
Cecie  and  baby  and  I  are  all  better.  Lavinia  dear 
will  see  you  presently ;  I  think  she  is  just  taking 
some  bread  out  of  the  oven." 

"  Let  me  go  into  the  kitchen  —  she  won't  mind 
me,"  said  Jack. 

Vinnie,  rosy-red  from  her  baking,  met  him  at  the 
door.  He  had  been  very  anxious  about  her  since  he 


150  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

left  her  there ;  but  a  glance  showed  him  that  all  had 
gone  well. 

"  You  have  survived  !  "  he  said. 

"  Yes,  indeed  ! "  she  replied.  "  I  told  you  I  would 
make  things  pleasant  here." 

"  The  boys  like  you,  I  see." 

"  And  I  like  them.  They  do  all  they  can  for  me. 
Rufus  even  helped  me  about  the  washing,  —  pounded 
and  wrung  out  the  clothes.  You  must  stay  to  dinner 
to-day." 

"  I  think  I  may  have  to,"  said  Jack  ;  "  for  my  horse 
has  n't  come  back  from  Chicago  yet,  and  I  don't  mean 
to  go  home  without  him." 

When  he  went  out  he  found  the  boys  waiting,  and 
accepted  a  seat  with  Wad  and  Link  on  a  board 
placed  across  two  of  the  tubs.  Eufe  walked  by  the 
cattle's  horns ;  while  in  the  third  tub  sat  Chokie. 

"  You  can't  sit  in  that  tub  going  back,  you  know," 
said  Link. 

"  Yes,  I  can  !  I  will ! "  And  Chokie  clung  fast  to 
the  handles. 

"  0,  well,  you  can  if  you  want  to,  I  suppose  ! "  said 
Link ;  "  but  it  will  be  full  of  water." 

They  passed  the  potato-patch  (Jack  smiled  to  see 
that  the  potatoes  had  been  dug),  crossed  a  strip  of 
meadow-land  below,  and  then  rounded  a  bend  in  the 
river,  in  the  direction  of  a  deep  place  the  boys  knew. 

"  I  always  hate  to  ride  after  oxen,  —  they  go  so 
tormented  slow  ! "  said  Link.  "  Why  don't  some 
body  invent  a  wagon  to  go  by  steam  ? " 


MORE  WATER  THAN  THEY  WANTED.     151 

"  Did  you  ever  see  a  wagon  go  by  water  ? "  Jack 
asked. 

"  No,  nor  anybody  else  ! " 

"  I  have,"  said  Jack.  "  I  know  a  man  in  this 
county  who  has  one." 

"  What  man  ?     I  'd  go  five  miles  to  see  one  ! " 

"  You  can  see  one  without  going  so  far.  The  man 
is  your  father,  and  this  is  the  wagon.  It  is  going  by 
water  now." 

"  By  water  —  yes !  By  the  river ! "  said  Link, 
amused  and  vexed. 

"  Link,"  said  Jack,  "  do  you  remember  that  little 
joke  of  yours  about  the  boys  stopping  the  leak  in 
the  boat  ?  Well,  we  are  even  now." 

Rufe  backed  the  hind-wheels  of  the  wagon  into 
the  river,  over  the  deep  place,  and  asked  Wad  which 
he  would  do,  —  dip  the  water  and  pass  it  up  by  the 
pailful,  or  stay  in  the  wagon  and  receive  it. 

"  Whoever  dips  it  up  has  to  stand  in  the  river 
above  his  knees,"  said  Wad;  "and  I  don't  mean  to 
get  wet  to-day." 

"  Very  well ;  stay  in  the  wagon,  then.  You  '11 
get  as  wet  as  I  shall ;  for  I  'm  going  to  pull  off  my 
shoes  and  roll  up  my  trousers.  Chokie,  you  keep  in 
that  tub,  just  where  you  are,  till  the  tub  is  wanted. 
Link,  you  'd  better  go  into  the  river  with  me,  and 
dip  the  pails,  while  I  pass  'em  up  to  Wad." 

"  I  never  can  keep  my  trousers-legs  rolled  up,  and 
I  ain't  going  to  get  wet,"  said  Link.  Then,  whisper 
ing  to  Jack  :  "  There  's  leeches  in  this  river ;  they 


152  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

get  right  into  a  fellow's  flesh  and  suck  his  blood  like 
sixty." 

Wad  proposed  to  begin  with  the  barrel,  and  to 
have  Link  stand  at  the  end  of  the  wagon,  receive  the 
pails,  pass  them  to  him,  and  pass  them  back  to  Eufe 
empty. 

"  Why  not  move  the  barrel  to  the  end  of  the 
wagon,  and  fill  it  about  two  thirds  full,  and  then 
move  it  back  again  ?  I  '11  help  you  do  that,"  said 
Link. 

"  All  right ;  I  '11  fill  the  barrel  and  one  of  the  tubs ; 
then  you  shall  fill  the  other  two  tubs." 

Link  agreed  to  this  ;  while  Jack  smiled  to  hear  so 
much  talk  about  doing  so  small  a  thing. 

Eufe  went  in  bare-legged,  and  stood  on  the  edge 
of  the  deep  hole,  where  the  water  was  hardly  up  to 
his  knees.  Much  as  he  disliked,  ordinarily,  to  set 
about  any  work,  he  was  strong  and  active  when  once 
roused ;  and  the  pails  of  water  went  up  on  the  wagon 
about  as  fast  as  Wad  cared  to  take  them. 

"  Hullo  !  Don't  slop  so  !  You  're  wetting  my 
feet ! "  cried  Wad. 

"  I  can't  keep  from  spilling  a  drop  once  in  a  while. 
You  might  have  taken  off  your  shoes  and  rolled  up 
your  trousers  as  I  did." 

The  barrel  was  soon  two  thirds  full,  and  Wad 
called  upon  Link  to  help  him  move  it  forward.  Link 
left  his  seat  by  Jack's  side,  and  walked  back  to  the 
rear  of  the  wagon.  Wad,  as  we  know,  was  already 
there.  So  was  the  barrel  of  water,  standing  just 


MORE  WATER  THAN  THEY  WANTED.     153 

back  of  the  rear  axletree.  So  also  was  a  fresh  pail 
of  water,  which  Kufe  had  placed  at  the  extreme  end, 
because  "Wad  was  not  ready  to  take  it. 

At  that  moment  the  oxen,  hungry  for  fresh  grass, 
and  having  nipped  all  within  reach  of  their  noses, 
started  up  a  little.  Jack,  thinking  to  prevent  mis 
chief  by  running  to  their  heads,  leaped  from  the  front 
of  the  wagon. 

This  abrupt  removal  of  weight  from  one  end,  and 
large  increase  of  avoirdupois  at  the  other,  produced  a 
natural  but  very  surprising  result.  Chokie  in  his 
tub,  though  at  the  long  end  of  the  beam,  so  to  speak 
(the  rear  axletree  being  the  fulcrum),  was  not  heavy 
enough  to  counterbalance  two  brothers  and  a  barrel 
of  water  at  the  short  end. 

He  suddenly  felt  himself  rising  in  the  air,  and 
sliding  with  the  empty  tubs.  His  brothers  at  the 
same  moment  felt  themselves  sinking  and  pitching. 
There  was  a  chorus  of  shrieks,  as  they  made  a  des 
perate  effort  to  save  themselves.  Too  late;  the 
wagon-bottom  reared,  and  away  went  barrel,  boys, 
tubs,  everything. 

The  oxen,  starting  at  the  alarm,  helped  to  precipi 
tate  the  catastrophe.  Fortunately,  Jack  was  at  hand 
to  stop  them,  or  the  dismantled  wagon  might  have 
gone  flying  across  the  lot,  even  fast  enough  to  suit 
Link's  notion  of  speed. 

Eufe  made  one  quick  effort  to  prevent  the  boards 
from   tipping  up,  then  leaped  aside,  while  the  dis 
charged  load  shot  past  him. 
7* 


154  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

Chokie,  screaming,  held  fast  to  the  sides  of  his  tub 
with  both  hands.  Wad,  intending  to  jump,  plunged 
into  the  deepest  part  of  the  river.  Link  made  a 
snatch  at  the  barrel,  and,  playing  at  leap-frog  over 
it  (very  unwillingly),  went  headlong  into  the  deep 
hole. 

Chokie  met  with  a  wonderfully  good  fortune  ;  his 
tub  was  launched  so  neatly,  and  ballasted  so  nicely 
by  him  sitting  in  the  bottom,  that  it  shipped  but  a 
splash  of  water,  and  he  floated  away,  unhurt  and 
scarcely  wet  at  all,  amidst  the  general  ruin. 

The  wagon-boards,  relieved  of  their  load,  tumbled 
back  upon  the  wheels.  To  add  to  the  confusion, 
Lion  barked  furiously. 

Jack,  frightened  at  first,  finally  began  to  laugh, 
when  he  saw  Chokie  sailing  away,  under  full  scream, 
and  Wad  and  Link  scrambling  out  of  the  water. 

"  So  you  were  the  fellows  that  were  not  going  to 
get  wet ! "  cried  Rufe.  "  Pick  out  your  barrel  and 
empty  tubs,  while  I  catch  Chokie ! " 

The  river,  even  in  the  deepest  place,  was  not  very 
deep ;  and  Wad  and  Link  came  wading  out,  blowing 
water  from  their  mouths,  flirting  water  from  their 
hair,  and  shaking  water  from  their  rescued  hats,  in  a 
way  that  made  Eufe  (after  he  had  stranded  Chokie 
in  his  tub)  roll  upon  the  grass  in  convulsions. 

"  Laugh,  then  ! "  cried  Wad  in  a  rage  ;  "  I  '11  give 
you  something  to  laugh  at ! "  And,  catching  up  a 
tub  partly  filled  with  water,  he  rushed  with  it  to 
take  wet  vengeance  on  his  dry  brother. 


MORE  WATER  THAN  THEY  WANTED.     155 

Before  Rufe,  helpless  with  laughter,  could  move  to 
defend  himself,  tub,  water,  and  Wad,  all  together, 
were  upon  him,  —  the  tub  capsizing  over  his  head 
and  shoulders,  Wad  tumbling  upon  the  tub,  and  the 
water  running  out  in  little  rivulets  below. 

Rufe  was  pretty  wet,  but  still  laughing,  when  he 
crawled  out,  like  a  snail  from  under  his  shell,  and 
got  upon  his  feet,  clutching  the  tub  to  hurl  it  at 
Wad,  who  fled. 

"  You  are  the  only  one  who  has  got  any  dry  fun 
out  of  this  scrape  ! "  Rufe  said,  trying  to  brush  the 
water  out  of  his  neck  and  breast. 

His  words  were  addressed  to  Jack,  and  they 
proved  more  strictly  true  than  he  intended  ;  for  just 
then  Chokie,  trying  to  get  out  of  his  stranded  tub, 
tipped  it  over,  and  went  out  of  it,  upon  his  hands 
and  knees,  into  the  river.  By  the  time  he  was 
pulled  out  and  set  upon  dry  ground,  the  boys  were 
all  pretty  good-natured. 

"  How  about  those  leeches,  Link  ?  Did  you  find 
any  ?  "  said  Jack. 

"  I  'm  too  dizzy  yet,  to  think  about  leeches,"  re 
plied  Link.  "  I  turned  a  somerset  out  of  that  wagon 
so  quick,  I  could  see  the  patch  on  the  seat  of  my 
trousers ! " 

"I  thought  I  was  going  through  to  China,"  said 
Wad,  "and  expected,  when  I  came  up,  to  see  men 
with  pigtails." 

He  stood  on  the  edge  of  the  water,  holding  another 
tub  for  Rufe,  if  he  should  come  too  near. 


156  THE  YOUNG  SUKVEYOR. 

"  Quit  your  nonsense  now  !  '•'  cried  Eufe,  "  and 
hand  up  that  barrel." 

"  1 11  quit  if  you  will,  —  as  the  poultry-thief  said 
when  the  old  gobbler  chased  him.  '  Quit,  quit ! ' 
says  the  turkey.  '  Quit  your  ownself ! '  says  the 
thief.  And  I  'm  just  of  his  way  of  thinking,"  said 
Wad. 

"  Well !  help  me  put  this  wagon  into  shape,"  said 
Eufe.  "  Then  we  '11  fill  our  tubs  and  barrel  without 
any  more  fooling." 

The  wagon-boards  were  replaced  and  loaded  with 
out  any  further  accident.  The  well-filled  tubs  were 
set  one  upon  another,  and  Wad  stood  holding  them ; 
while  Link,  having  placed  the  board  seat  over  the 
barrel  of  water,  sat  upon  it.  They  found  it  a  pretty 
sloppy  ride ;  but  they  could  laugh  defiance  at  a  little 
water  now.  Chokie,  it  need  hardly  be  said,  did  not 
ride  in  a  tub  of-  water,  but  walked  between  Jack  and 
Rufe  beside  the  oxen. 


PEAKSLOW  SHOWS  HIS  HAND.  157 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

PEAKSLOW  SHOWS   HIS  HAND. 

" HULLO!"  cried  Link  from  his  perch,  as  the 
wagon  passed  the  potato-patch,  "there  comes  Peak- 
slow  down  the  road  through  the  woods, — just  turn 
ing  the  corner  for  home  ! " 

Jack  started  with  sudden  excitement. 

"  Can  you  see  his  team  ? " 

"  Yes ;  one  of  the  horses  looks  like  yours ;  and  he 
has  an  extra  horse  led  behind." 

Jack  ran  up  to  the  road  to  get  a  look,  and  came 
laughing  back  to  the  house,  where  the  boys  and  their 
load  of  water  had  by  that  time  arrived. 

"  He  is  driving  my  horse,  and  leading  one  of  his 
own.  I  am  going  to  get  my  bridle,  and  call  on  him." 

"  You  '11  come  back  to  dinner  ? "  said  Rufe. 

"  Yes,  if  you  '11  have  my  prairie  chickens  cooked." 

And,  leaving  the  boys  to  astonish  the  family  with 
their  wet  clothes,  Jack,  with  the  bridle  on  his  arm, 
walked  down  the  road. 

Just  as  he  was  entering  Peakslow's  yard,  he  met 
Mr.  Wiggett  coming  out  with  his  arms  full  of  brown- 
paper  parcels. 

"Mr.  Wiggett!  glad  to  see  you!" 

"Same  to  yourself,"  replied  the  old  man.      "Got 


158-  THE  YOUNG   SURVEYOR. 

my  arms  full  o'  this  yer  stuff,  or  I'd  shake  hands. 
I  Ve  a  lot  more  o'  comforts  for  wife  and  young  uns 
in  the  wagon ;  but  I  thought  I  'd  lug  along  suthin, 
or  they  would  n't  be  glad  to  see  me." 

"Is  it  all  right  about  the  horse?" 

"  I  'low  it 's  all  right." 

"  Is  Peakslow  up  to  any  trick  ? " 

"  Nary,  as  I  kin  diskiver ;  and  I  pumped  him,  tew, 
right  smart,  a-comin'  over  the  perairie." 

"Did  he  have  much  trouble  getting  back  his 
horse  ? " 

"  Not  sich  a  dog-goned  sight  Truckman  's  a 
straightfor'ard,  honest  chap.  Says  he  guv  eighty 
dollars  for  your  hoss  ;  thinks  he  had  him  of  the  thief 
himself;  and  'lows  he  knows  the  rascal.  He  stuck 
out  a  little  at  fust,  and  you  should  'a'  heard  Peak- 
slow  talk  tew  him !  'T  was  ekal  to  gwine  to 
preachin'." 

"What  did  he  say?" 

"Said  none  but  a  fool  or  a  scoundrel  would 
ca'c'late  he  could  hang  ontew  a  piece  o'  prop'ty  that 
had  been  stole,  or  traded  for  what  had  been  stole. 
Talked,  of  course,  just  t'  other  way  from  what  he  did 
when  he  talked  to  you.  Truckman  did  n't  mind  his 
gab,  but  when  he  was  satisfied  the  hoss  he  put  away 
had  been  stole,  he  guv  up  Peakslow's,  and  the  fifteen 
dollars  to  boot.  Now,  how  in  the  name  of  seven 
kingdoms  Peakslow  's  gwine  to  turn  it  about  to  make 
anything  more,  beats  all  my  understandin' ! " 

Jack  thanked  the  old  man  warmly  for  the  interest 


PEAKSLOW  SHOWS  HIS   HAND.  159 

he  had  taken  in  the  affair,  and  asked  how  he  could 
pay  him  for  his  trouble. 

"  I  have  n't  looked  for  no  pay,"  replied  the  old 
man.  "  But  one  thing  I  should  like  to  have  ye  dew 
for  me,  if  ever  ye  come  my  way  agin  with  yer  com 
pass.  My  woman  guv  me  right  smart  of  her  jaw  for 
forgittin'  it  when  ye  was  thar  before.  She  wants  a 
noon-mark  on  our  kitchen  floor." 

"All  right,"  said  Jack.     "She  shall  have  it." 

The  old  man  went  on  with  his  bundles,  while  Jack 
entered  Peakslow's  yard. 

Peakslow,  who  was  unharnessing  his  team,  with 
the  help  of  two  stout  boys,  looked  up  and  said,  in  a 
tone  which  he  meant  should  be  friendly,  — 

"  How  are  ye  ?  On  hand,  I  see,"  with  a  grim 
smile  at  the  bridle. 

"  I  was  on  hand  a  little  before  you  were,"  replied 
Jack.  "  Your  week  was  up  an  hour  ago.  Though  I 
don't  care  about  that.  You  Ve  got  your  horse,  I  see." 

"  That 's  the  main  thing  I  went  for ;  course  I  've 
got  him.  Here  's  a  paper,  with  the  truckman's  name 
wrote  on 't ;  he  wants  you  to  come  and  see  him  when 
you  go  to  town,  pervided  he  don't  come  to  see  you 
fust." 

"  Did  he  say  anything  about  a  bridle  and  a  blanket 
that  were  on  the  horse  when  he  was  stolen  ? " 

"  He 's  got  'em,"  Peakslow  coolly  replied ;  "  but  as 
no  reward  was  offered  for  anything  but  the  hoss,  I 
did  n't  take  'em." 

Jack  did  n't  quite  see  the  logic  of  this  remark. 


160  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

"  Never  mind ;  they  are  trifles,"  he  said.  "  It 's 
glory  enough  for  one  while,  to  get  my  horse  again. 
I  've  a  bridle  here  for  him ;  I  '11  slip  it  on,  Zeph,  if 
you'll  slip  yours  off." 

"  You  can  slip  your  bridle  on  that  hoss,  and  take 
him  away,  when  you  've  fulfilled  the  conditions ;  not 
before,"  said  Peakslow. 

"  What  conditions  ?  You  don't  pretend  to  claim 
my  horse  now  you  've  got  your  own  back  ? " 

"  I  've  got  a  claim  on  him,"  Peakslow  replied. 
"  Here 's  your  own  handbill  for  it.  Twenty  Dollars 
Eeward  !  I  've  got  back  your  hoss  for  ye,  and  I 
demand  the  reward." 

This,  then,  after  all,  was  the  quirk  in  Peakslow's 
head.  The  boys  grinned.  Jack  was  astounded. 

"  Peakslow,"  he  exclaimed  indignantly,  "  you  know 
that 's  an  absurd  claim  !  You  did  n't  find  my  horse 
and  deliver  him  to  me ;  I  found  him  in  your  hands, 
and  you  even  refused  to  give  him  up !  The  truck 
man  has  a  better  claim  for  the  reward  than  you  have, 
for  he  had  him  first;  and  then  I  don't  see  but  the 
thief  himself  has  a  prior  claim  to  either." 

"You  talk  like  a  fool!"  said  Peakslow. 

"  You  act  like  a  fool  and  a  knave  ! "  Jack  retorted, 
in  a  sudden  blaze.  "  I  won't  have  any  more  words 
with  you.  Sue  for  the  reward,  if  you  think  you  can 
get  it.  I'm  just  going  to  take  my  horse!" 

"  Not  till  the  reward  is  paid,  if  I  live ! "  said 
Peakslow,  his  black  eyes  sparkling.  "  Zeph,  step  and 
hand  out  the  old  gun  ! " 


THE  WOODLAND   SPRING.  161 


CHAPTEE    XXII. 

THE  WOODLAND   SPRING. 

VERY  pale,  with  the  bridle  dangling  from  his  arm, 
and  Lion  walking  dejectedly  by  his  side  (the  sym 
pathetic  dog  always  knew  when  his  master  was  in 
trouble),  Jack  returned  to  the  "castle." 

Lord  Betterson,  meeting  him  in  the  door-yard, 
touched  his  hat  and  bowed. 

"  "Where  —  is  —  your  —  quadruped  ? "  he  asked, 
with  a  cool,  deliberate  politeness,  which  fell  upon 
Jack's  mood  like  drops  of  water  on  red-hot  steel. 

"  That  villain !  he  claims  the  reward  for  him ! 
But  I  never  '11  pay  it  in  the  world ! " 

Betterson  smiled  and  said,  "  Ah !  Peakslow  ! 
Highly  characteristic ! " 

"  He  threatened  to  shoot  me !  " 

"Very  likely.  He  has  threatened  to  shoot  me, 
on  one  or  two  occasions.  I  said,  '  Shoot ! '  *  (Jack 
wondered  whether  he  said  it  with  that  condescend 
ing  smile  and  gracious  gesture.)  "  It  is  n't  agree 
able  to  have  dealings  with  a  person  who  talks  of 
shooting  his  fellow-men ;  but  I  imagine  there  's  no 
danger,  if  you  keep  cool." 

"  I  could  n't  keep  cool,"  said  Jack.  "  I  got  as  mad 
as  he  was.  I  could  have  shot  him" 


162  THE  YOUNG   SURVEYOR 

"That,  my  friend,"  Lord  Betterson  replied,  with 
a  wave  of  the  hand,  "  was  an  error,  —  quite  natural, 
but  still  an  error.  You  stay  to  dinner  ? " 

"Thank  you,  I  have  promised  myself  that  pleas 
ure." 

Jack  was  ashamed  of  having  given  way  to  his 
anger;  and  he  determined  from  that  moment,  what 
ever  happened,  to  keep  calm. 

As  he  threw  his  useless  bridle  down,  and  left  Lion 
to  guard  it,  he  saw  Wad  starting  off  with  a  pail,  and 
asked  where  he  was  going. 

"  For  water,"  said  Wad. 

"  More  water  ?  I  should  think  you  all  had  enough 
for  one  day ! " 

"  Yes,  for  the  outer  man,"  drawled  Wad.  "  Where 's 
your  horse  ? " 

"I  concluded  to  let  Peakslow  keep  him  a  little 
longer.  He  seemed  willing  to ;  and  I  am  not  ready 
to  ride  home.  May  I  go  with  you  ? " 

"  Glad  to  have  ye,"  said  Wad. 

They  walked  a  little  way  along  the  road  toward 
Peakslow's  house,  then  entered  the  woodland,  de 
scended  into  a  little  ravine,  and,  on  the  slope  beyond, 
found  a  spring  of  running  water  in  the  shade  of  an 
oak  grove. 

Jack  was  not  inclined  to  talk  of  Snowfoot,  but  he 
had  a  good  deal  to  say  about  the  spring. 

"  Why,  this  is  charming !  What  a  clear  basin  of 
water  !  Is  it  always  running  over  ? " 

"Always,   even  in  the   driest  season.     We   first 


THE  WOODLAND   SPRING.  163 

noticed  that  little  stream  trickling  down  into  the 
ravine ;  and  that 's  about  all  there  was  to  be  seen, 
till  Kufe  and  I  hollowed  out  this  basin." 

"  Why  don't  you  come  here  with  your  wagon  and 
tubs,  instead  of  going  to  the  river  ? " 

"  There 's  no  good  way  to  get  in  here  with  a 
wagon ;  and,  besides,  we  can't  dip  up  more  than 
two  or  three  pailfuls  at  a  time,  —  then  we  must 
wait  for  the  spring  to  fill." 

"  You  could  sink  a  barrel,"  said  Jack,  "  and  always 
have  that  full,  to  start  upon.  Now  dip  your  pail, 
and  let 's  see  how  long  it  takes  for  the  basin  to 
fill" 

The  experiment  was  tried,  and  Jack  grew  quite 
enthusiastic  over  the  result. 

"  See !  how  fast  the  water  comes  in !  I  say,  Wad, 
you  've  got  something  valuable  here." 

"Yes,"  said  Wad.  "I  only  wish  the  house  had 
been  built  somewhere  near.  This  is  part  of  the  land 
Peakslow  pretended  to  claim.  The  swing,  where 
Cecie  got  hurt,  is  in  the  grove,  just  up  here." 

The  place  was  so  cool  and  pleasant  that  Jack  let 
Wad  return  alone  with  the  water,  and  walked  about 
the  spring  and  the  swing,  and  up  into  the  woods 
beyond,  calming  his  inward  excitement,  until  din 
ner-time. 

At  table  he  gave  a  humorous  account  of  his  late 
interview  with  Peakslow. 

"He  was  so  very  cordial  in  his  request  that  I 
should  leave  Snowfoot,  that  I  couldn't  well  refuse, 


164  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

—  though  I  did  decline  to  trouble  him,  till  he 
brought  out  a  double-barrelled  argument,  —  stub 
twist,  percussion  lock,  —  which  finally  persuaded 
me.  He  is  one  of  the  most  urgent  men  I  ever 
saw,"  added  Jack,  mashing  his  potato. 

Vinnie  smiled,  while  the  others  laughed;  but 
her  eyes  were  full  of  anxiety,  as  they  beamed  on 
Jack.' 

"  Is  n't  it  possible,"  she  said,  "  to  meet  such  argu 
ments  with  kindness  ?  I  did  n't  think  there  was  a 
man  so  bad  that  he  could  n't  be  influenced  by  reason 
and  good- will." 

"  It  might  rain  reasons  on  Peakslow,  forty  days 
and  forty  nights,  —  he  would  shed  'em,  as  a  duck 
does  water,"  Jack  replied.  "  Is  n't  it  so,  Mr.  Bet- 
terson  ? " 

"  I  have  certainly  found  him  impervious,"  said  my 
lord. 

"I  might  have  stopped  to  argue  with  him,  and 
threaten  him  with  the  law  and  costs  of  court,  and 
perhaps  have  settled  the  matter  for  five  or  ten 
dollars.  But  the  truth  is,"  Jack  confessed,  "I  lost 
patience  and  temper.  I  am  not  going  to  have  any 
more  words  with  him.  Now  let 's  drop  Peakslow, 
and  speak  of  something  more  important.  That 
spring  over  in  your  woods,  Mr.  Betterson,  —  I  've 
been  looking  at  it.  Is  it  soft  water  ? "  (Jack  lifted 
a  glass  and  sipped  it ;)  "  as  good  for  washing  as  it 
is  for  the  table  ? " 

"  It  is  excellent  water  for  any  purpose,"  said  Mr. 


THE  WOODLAND   SPKING.  165 

Betterson.  "There  is  only  one  fault  in  that  spring, 
—  it  is  too  far  off." 

"  We  are  going  to  move  the  house  up  there,  so  as 
to  have  it  handy,"  said  Link. 

"That  is  one  of  my  young  friend's  jokes,"  said 
Jack.  "But,  seriously,  Mr.  Betterson,  instead  of 
moving  the  house  to  the  spring,  why  don't  you 
bring  the  spring  to  the  house  ? " 

"  How  do  you  mean  ?  It  does  n't  seem  quite  — 
ah  —  practicable,  to  move  a  spring  that  way." 

"  I  don't  mean  the  spring  itself,  of  course,  but  the 
water.  You  might  have  that  running,  a  constant 
stream,  in  your  kitchen  or  back-room." 

"  I  apprehend  your  drift,"  said  Betterson,  helping 
Jack  to  a  piece  of  prairie  chicken.  "You  mean, 
bring  it  in  pipes." 

"  Thank  you.     Precisely." 

"But  I  apprehend  a  difficulty;  it  is  not  easy  to 
make  water  run  up  hill." 

Jack  smiled,  and  blushed  a  little,  at  Betterson's 
polite  condescension  in  making  this  mild  objection. 

"Water  running  down  hill  may  force  itself  up 
another  hill,  if  confined  in  pipes,  I  think  you  will 
concede." 

"  Most  assuredly.  But  it  will  not  rise  again  higher 
than  its  source.  And  the  spring  is  lower  than  we 
are,  —  lower  than  our  kitchen  sink." 

"I  don't  quite  see  that,"  replied  Jack,  with  the 
air  of  a  candid  inquirer.  "I  have  been  over  the 
ground,  and  it  did  n't  strike  me  so." 


166  THE  YOUNG   SURVEYOR. 

"  It  certainly  looks  to  be  several  feet  lower,"  said 
Betterson ;  and  the  boys  agreed  with  him. 

"  We  generally  speak  of  going  down  to  the  spring," 
said  Kufe.  "We  go  down  the  road,  then  down  the 
bank  of  the  ravine,  and  then  a  little  way  up  the 
other  bank.  I  don't  know  how  we  can  tell  just 
how  much  lower  it  is.  We  can't  see  the  spring 
from  the  house." 

"  If  I  had  my  instruments  here,  I  could  tell  you 
which  is  lower,  and  how  much  lower,  pretty  soon. 
While  I  am  waiting  for  Snowfoot,  (I  can't  go  home, 
you  know,  without  Snowfoot !)  I  may,  perhaps,  do 
a  bit  of  engineering,  as  it  is." 


JACK'S   "BIT  OF  ENGINEERING."  167 


CHAPTEE  XXIII. 

JACK'S  "BIT  OF  ENGINEERING." 

THE  boys  got  around  Jack  after  dinner,  and  asked 
him  about  that  bit  of  engineering. 

"In  the  first  place,"  said  Jack,  standing  outside 
the  door,  and  looking  over  toward  the  spring,  hidden 
by  intervening  bushes  on  a  ridge,  "  we  must  have  a 
water-level,  and  I  think  I  can  make  one.  Get  me  a 
piece  of  shingle,  or  any  thin  strip  of  wood.  And  I 
shall  want  a  pail  of  water." 

A  shingle  brought,  Jack  cut  it  so  that  it  would 
float  freely  in  the  pail ;  and,  having  taken  two  thin 
strips  of  equal  length  from  the  sides,  he  set  them  up 
near  each  end,  like  the  masts  of  a  boy's  boat. 

"  Now,  this  is  our  level,"  he  said ;  "  and  these 
masts  are  the  sights.  To  see  that  they  are  exact, 
we  will  look  across  them  at  some  object,  then  turn 
the  level  end  for  end,  and  look  across  them  again ; 
if  the  range  is  the  same  both  ways,  then  our  sights 
are  right,  are  they  not  ?  But  I  see  we  must  lay  a 
couple  of  sticks  across  the  pail,  to  hold  our  level  still 
while  we  are  using  it." 

The  boys  were  much  interested  ;  and  Link  said  he 
did  n't  see  what  anybody  wanted  of  a  better  level 
than  that. 


168 


THE  YOUNG   SURVEYOR. 


"  It  will  do  for  the  use  we  are  going  to  make  of 
it,"  said  Jack;  "but  it  might  not  be  quite  con 
venient  for  field  service  ;  you  could  n't  carry  a  pail 


TESTING  THE  LEVEL. 


of  water,  and  a  floating  shingle  with  two  masts,  in 
your  overcoat-pocket,  you  know.  We  11  aim  at  a 
leg  of  that  grindstone.  Go  and  stick  your  knife 
where  I  tell  you,  Link." 


JACK'S  "BIT  OF  ENGINEERING."  169 

Jack  soon  got  his  level  so  that  it  would  stand  the 
test,  and  called  the  boys  to  look. 

"  Here  !  you  stand  back,  Chokie  !  "  cried  Link ; 
while  Rufe  and  Wad,  one  after  the  other,  got  down 
on  the  ground  and  sighted  across  the  level  at  the 
knife-blade. 

"  Now,"  Jack  explained,  "  I  am  going  to  set  this 
pail  of  water  in  your  kitchen  window,  .by  the  sink. 
That  will  be  our  starting-point.  Then  I  want  one 
of  you  boys  to  go,  with  a  long-handled  pitchfork, 
in  the  direction  of  the  spring,  as  far  as  you  can  and 
keep  the  pail  in  sight ;  then  set  up  your  fork,  and 
pin  a  piece  of  white  paper  on  it  just  where  I  tell 
you.  As  I  raise  my  hand,  you  will  slide  the  paper 
up  ;  and,  as  I  lower  my  hand,  you  will  slip  it  down." 

Wad  and  Link  both  went  with  the  fork,  which 
they  set  up  on  the  borders  of  the  woodland,  back 
from  the  road.  Then  Wad,  wrapping  a  piece  of 
newspaper  about  the  handle,  held  it  there  as  high  as 
his  'head,  with  a  good  strip  of  it  visible  above  his 
hand. 

Jack,  standing  in  the  kitchen,  looked  across  the 
sights  of  his  level  placed  in  the  open  window,  and 
laughed. 

"  What  do  you  think,  Eufe  ?  Is  the  paper  high 
enough  ? " 

"  It  ought  to  be  a  foot  or  two  higher,"  was  Eufe's 
judgment. 

"/  say  a  foot  higher,"  remarked  Lord  Betterson, 
coming  up  behind. 

8 


170  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

"  What  do  you  say,  Vinnie  ? " 

"  I  think  the  paper  is  too  high." 

"  Now  look  across  the  level,"  said  Jack. 

All  were  astonished;  and  Lord  Betterson  could 
hardly  be  convinced  that  the  level  was  constructed 
on  sound  principles.  It  showed  that  the  top  of  the 
paper  should  be  just  below  Wad's  knee. 

"  Now  we  will  take  our  level,"  said  Jack,  after  the 
paper  was  pinned  in  its  proper  place,  "  and  go  for 
ward  and  make  another  observation." 

He  chose  a  place  at  the  top  of  the  ridge  beyond 
Wad,  where,  after  cutting  a  few  bushes,  he  was  able 
to  look  back  and  see  the  fork-handle,  and  also  to  look 
forward  and  see  the  spring.  There  he  set  his  pail  on 
the  ground,  waited  for  the  water  to  become  still, 
adjusted  his  level,  and  caused  a  second  strip  of 
paper  to  be  pinned  to  the  fork-handle,  in  range  with 
the  sights. 

The  boys  then  gathered  around  the  fork,  while 
Jack,  taking  a  pocket-rule  from  his  coat,  ascertained 
that  the  second  paper  was  six  feet  and  an  inch  above 
the  first. 

"  Which  shows  that  our  level  is  now  six  feet  and 
an  inch  higher  than  it  stood  on  the  kitchen  window," 
said  he.  "  Now  let 's  see  how  much  higher  it  is  than 
the  spring." 

Link  was  already  on  his  hands  and  knees  by  the 
pail,  turning  the  sights  in  range  with  the  spring  on 
the  farther  side  of  the  little  ravine.  He  suddenly 
flapped  his  arms  and  crowed. 


JACK'S  "BIT  OF  ENGINEERING."  171 

"  No  need  of  setting  the  fork  over  there,"  he  said. 
"  The  spring  is  almost  as  high  as  the  pail !  " 

"  Let 's  be  exact,"  said  Jack  ;  and  he  went  himself 
and  thrust  the  fork,  handle  downward,  into  the  basin 
of  the  spring.  "  Now,  Link,  you  be  the  engineer ; 
show  your  skill ;  tell  me  where  to  fix  this  paper." 

Link  was  delighted  with  the  important  part  as 
signed  him. 

"  Higher  ! "  he  commanded,  from  behind  the  pail. 
"Not  quite  so  high.  Not  quite  so  low.  Now  just  a 
millionth  part  of  an  inch  higher  —  there ! " 

"  A  millionth  part  of  an  inch  is  drawing  it  rather 
fine,"  said  Jack,  as  he  pinned  the  paper. 

Afterward,  going  and  looking  across  the  level,  he 
decided  that  Link  had  taken  a  very  accurate  aim. 
Then,  his  pocket-measure  being  once  more  applied, 
the  paper  was  found  to  be  only  seven  inches  higher 
than  the  water  in  the  basin. 

"  Seven  inches  from  six  feet  one  inch,  leaves  five 
feet  six  inches  as  the  height  of  the  spring  water 
above  the  level  of  our  sights  at  the  kitchen  window. 
Now,  I  measured,  and  found  they  were  there  thirteen 
inches  higher  than  the  bottom  of  the  sink ;  which 
shows  that  if  you  carry  this  water  in  pipes,  you  can 
have  your  spout,  or  faucet,  thirteen  inches  higher 
than  the  bottom  of  your  sink,  and  still  have  a  head 
of  water  of  five  feet  and  six  inches,  to  give  you  a 
running  stream." 

The  boys  were  much  astonished,  and  asked  how  it 
happened  that  they  had  been  so  deceived. 


172  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

"You  have  unconsciously  based  all  your  calcula 
tions  on  the  fact  that  you  go  down  to  Peakslow's. 
The  road  falls  a  little  all  the  way.  But  it  does  n't 
fall  much  between  your  house  and  the  place  where 
you  turn  into  the  woodland.  There  you  take  a  path 
among  the  bushes,  which  really  rises  all  the  way, 
though  quite  gradually,  until  you  pass  the  ridge  and 
go  down  into  the  ravine.  Vinnie  has  n't  been  accus 
tomed  to  talk  of  going  down  to  the  spring,  as  you 
have ;  and  so,  you  see,  she  was  the  only  one  who 
thought  Wad  at  first  placed  his  paper  too  high. 
Perhaps  this  does  n't  account  for  your  mistake ;  but 
it  is  the  best  reason  I  can  give." 

"  How  about  the  pipes  ?  "  Rufe  asked. 

"  You  can  use  pump-logs  for  pipes." 

"  But  we  have  no  pump-logs  ! " 

"You  have  enough  to  reach  from  here  to  North 
Mills  and  return.  They  are  growing  all  about  you." 

"  Trees  ! "  said  Wad.     "  They  are  not  pump-logs." 

"  Pump-logs  in  the  rough,"  replied  Jack.  "  They 
only  need  cutting,  boring,  and  jointing.  All  pump- 
logs  were  once  trees.  These  small-sized  oaks  are 
just  the  thing  for  the  purpose ;  you  have  acres  of 
them,  and  in  places  the  timber  needs  thinning  out. 
You  can  use  the  straight  stems  for  your  aqueduct, 
and  the  limbs  and  branches  for  firewood." 

"  That 's  an  idea  !  "  said  Eufe,  rubbing  his  forehead 
and  walking  quickly  about.  "  But  how  are  we  going 
to  turn  our  tree-trunks  into  pump-logs  ?  We  have 
no  tools  for  boring  and  jointing." 


JACK'S   "BIT  OF  ENGINEERING."  173 

"No,  and  it  would  cost  a  good  deal  to  get  them. 
You  want  an  iron  rod,  or  auger-shaft,  long  enough 
to  bore  half-way  through  your  longest  log;  then  a 
bit,  —  an  inch  bore  would  be  large  enough,  but  I 
suppose  it  would  be  just  as  easy,  perhaps  easier,  to 
make  a  two-inch  bore, —  the  auger  would  be  more 
apt  to  get  clogged  and  cramped  in  a  smaller  hole ; 
then  a  reamer  and  a  circular  joint-plane,  to  make 
your  joints,  —  the  taper  end  of  one  log  is  to  be  fitted 
into  the  bore  of  the  next,  you  know.  You  will  also 
need  some  apparatus  for  holding  your  log  and  direct 
ing  the  rod,  so  that  you  sha'  n't  bore  out,  but  make 
your  holes  meet  in  the  middle,  when  you  bore  from 
both  ends ;  and  I  don't  know  what  else.  I  Ve 
watched  men  boring  logs,  but  I  don't  remember  all 
the  particulars  about  it." 

"  You  seem  to  remember  a  good  deal,"  said  Wad. 
"  And  I  like  the  idea  of  a  stream  from  this  spring 
running  in  our  back-room,  —  think  of  it,  Eufe !  But 
it  can't  be  did,  —  as  the  elephant  said  when  he  tried 
to  climb  a  tree.  No  tools,  no  money  to  buy  or  hire 
'em,  or  to  hire  the  work  done." 

"  You  boys  can  do  a  good  deal  of  the  work  your 
selves,"  said  Jack.  "  You  can  cut  the  logs,  and  get 
them  all  ready  for  boring.  Then  you  can  get  the 
pump-maker  at  the  Mills  to  come  over  with  his 
tools  and  help  you  bore  them  by  hand ;  or  you 
can  haul  your  logs  to  him,  and  have  them  bored 
by  machinery,  —  he  has  a  tread-mill,  and  a  horse 
to  turn  it.  In  either  case,  I  Ve  no  doubt  you 


174  THE  YOUNG   SURVEYOR. 

could  pay  for  his  labor  by  furnishing  logs  for  his 
pumps." 

"  I  believe  we  can  ! "  said  Kufe,  by  this  time  quite 
warmed  up  to  the  subject.  "  But  how  about  laying 
the  logs  ?  They  have  to  be  put  pretty  deep  into  the 
ground,  don't  they  ? " 

"Deep  enough  so  that  the  water  in  them  won't 
freeze.  A  trench  four  feet  deep  will  answer." 

"  How  wide  ?  " 

"  Just  wide  enough  for  a  man  to  get  into  it  and 
lay  the  logs  and  drive  the  joints  together.  And,  by 
the  way,  you  'd  better  be  sure  that  there  are  no  leaks, 
and  that  the  water  conies  through  all  right,  before 
you  cover  your  logs." 

"  But  there  's  work  in  digging  such  a  trench  as 
that ! "  said  Wad,  shaking  his  head. 

"  So  there  is  work  in  everything  useful  that  is  ever 
accomplished.  Often  the  more  work,  the  greater  the 
satisfaction  in  the  end.  But  you  boys  have  got  it  in 
you,  —  I  see  that ;  and,  let  me  tell  you,"  said  Jack, 
"  if  I  were  you,  I  would  take  hold  of  things  on  this 
place  in  downright  earnest,  and  make  a  farm  and  a 
home  to  be  proud  of." 

"  I  never  could  get  in  love  with  work,"  replied 
"Wad.  "  I  'm  constitutionally  tired,  as  the  lazy  man 
said.  The  thought  of  that  trench  makes  my  back 
ache." 

"  It  won't  be  such  a  back-aching  job  as  you  sup 
pose.  You've  only  to  take  one -stroke  with  a  pick 
or  shovel  at  a  time.  And  as  for  that  constitutional 


JACK'S   "BIT  OF  ENGINEERING."  175 

weariness  you  complain  of,  now  is  the  time  in  your 
lives  to  get  rid  of  it,  —  to  work  it  out  of  your  blood, 
—  and  lay  the  foundations  of  your  manhood." 

"I  must  say,  you  preach  pretty  well!"  observed 
Wad. 

"  I  'm  not  much  of  a  preacher,"  replied  Jack  ;  "but 
I  can't  help  feeling  a  good  deal,  and  saying  just  a 
word,  when  I  see  young  fellows  like  you  neglecting 
your  opportunities." 

"  If  father  and  Ead  would  take  hold  with  us,  we 
would  just  straighten  things,"  said  Eufe. 

"  Don't  wait  for  your  father  to  set  you  an  exam 
ple,"  replied  Jack.  "  I  don't  know  about  Ead,  though 
I  've  heard  you  speak  of  him." 

"  Our  cousin,  Eadcliff,"  said  Eufe.  "  He 's  a  smart 
fellow,  in  his  way,  but  he  don't  like  work  any  better 
than  we  do,  and  he  's  off  playing  the  gentleman  most 
of  the  time." 

"  Or  playing  the  loafer,"  said  Wad. 

"  Let  him  stay  away,"  said  Jack.  "  You  11  do  bet 
ter  without  any  gentlemen  loafers  around." 

"  Did  you  ever  do  much  hard  work  ?  "  Wad  asked. 

"  What  do  you  think  ? "  replied  Jack,  with  a 
smile. 

"  I  think  you  Ve  seen  something  of  the  world." 

"  Yes,  and  I  Ve  had  my  way  to  make  in  it.  I  was 
brought  up  on  the  Erie  Canal,  —  a  driver,  ignorant, 
ragged,  saucy ;  you  would  n't  believe  me  if  I  should 
tell  you  what  a  little  wretch  I  was.  All  the  educa 
tion  I  have,  I  have  gained  by  hard  study,  mostly  at 


176  THE  YOUNG   SURVEYOR. 

odd  spells,  in  the  last  three  years.  I  had  got  a 
chance  to  work  on  a  farm,  and  go  to  school  in  win 
ter  ;  then  I  took  to  surveying,  and  came  out  here  to 
be  with  Mr.  Felton.  So,  you  see,  I  must  have  done 
something  besides  loafing ;  and  if  I  talk  work  to  you 
I  have  earned  the  right  to." 

"  I  say,  boys  ! "  cried  Link,  "  le's  put  this  thing 
through,  and  have  the  water  running  in  the  house." 

"  It  will  do  for  you  to  talk,"  said  Wad ;  "  mighty 
little  of  the  work  you  '11  do." 

"  You  '11  see,  Wad  Betterson  !  Hain't  I  worked 
the  past  week  as  hard  as  either  of  you  ? " 

"  This  thing  is  n't  to  be  pitched  into  in  a  hurry," 
said  Eufe,  more  excited  than  he  wished  to  appear. 
"  We  shall  have  to  look  it  all  over,  and  talk  with  the 
pump-maker,  and  do  up  some  of  the  farm-work  that 
is  behindhand." 

"  Why  don't  you  take  the  farm  of  your  father," 
said  Jack,  "  and  see  what  you  can  make  out  of  it  ? 
I  never  knew  what  it  was  to  be  really  interested  in 
work  till  I  took  some  land  with  another  boy,  and  we 
raised  a  crop  on  our  own  account." 

Eufe  brightened  at  the  idea;  but  Wad  said  he 
was  n't  going  to  be  a  farmer,  anyway. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  be  ? " 

"  I  have  n't  made  up  my  mind  yet." 

"  Till  you  do  make  up  your  mind,  my  advice  is  for 
you  to  take  hold  of  what  first  comes  to  your  hand,  do 
that  well,  and  prepare  yourself  for  something  more  to 
your  liking." 


JACK'S   "BIT  OF  ENGINEERING."  177 

"  I  believe  that  's  good  advice,"  said  Eufe.  "  But 
it  is  going  to  be  hard  for  us  to  get  out  of  the  old 
ruts." 

"  I  know  it ;  and  so  much  the  more  credit  you  will 
have  when  you  succeed." 

Jack  moved  away. 

"  Where  are  you  going  now  ? "  Rufe  asked. 

"  To  reconnoitre  a  little,  and  see  what  Peakslow 
has  done  with  my  horse.  I  ride  that  horse  home, 
you  understand  ! " 


8* 


178 


THE  YOUNG   SURVEYOR. 


CHAPTEE  XXIV. 

PREPARING  FOR  THE  ATTACK. 

THE  boys  showed  Jack  a  way  through  the  timber 
to  a  wooded  hill  opposite  Peakslow's  house.  There 
Link  climbed  a  tree  to  take  an  observation. 


OLD  WIGGETT. 


"  I  can  look  right  over  into  his  barn -yard,"  he 
reported  to  his  companions  below.  "  There  's  old 
Wiggett  with  his  ox-cart,  unloading  something  out 


PREPARING  FOR  THE  ATTACK.        179 

of  Peakslow's  wagon ;  and  there  's  Peakslow  with 
him.  Hark ! "  After  a  pause,  Link  laughed  and 
said  :  "  Peakslow  's  talking  loud  ;  I  could  hear  him 
say,  '  That  air  hoss,'  and  '  Not  if  I  live  ! '  Now  old 
Wiggett  's  hawing  his  oxen  around  out  of  the  yard." 

"  I  must  head  him  off  and  have  a  word  with  him," 
said  Jack.  And  away  he  dashed  through  the  under 
growth. 

Reaching  a  clump  of  hazels  by  the  roadside,  he 
waited  till  the  old  man  and  his  slow  ox-team  came 
along. 

"What's  the  news,  Mr.  Wiggett?"  Jack  said, 
coming  out  and  accosting  him. 

"  Whoa  !  hush  !  back  ! "  the  old  man  commanded, 
beating  his  cattle  across  the  face  with  a  short  ox- 
goad.  He  shook  with  laughter  as  he  turned  to  Jack. 
"  It 's  dog-gone-ation  funny !  He  had  a  quirk  in  his 
head,  arter  all.  Hankers  arter  that  reward  of  twenty 
dollars ! " 

"What  did  you  say  to  him  ?  " 

"  Told  him  he  had  no  shadder  of  a  claim,  —  he 
might  sue  ye  through  all  the  courts  in  seven  king 
doms,  he  could  n't  find  a  jury  to  give  him  the  reward 
for  stolen  prop'ty  found  in  his  hands.  He  said  for 
that  reason  he  meant  to  hold  ontew  the  hoss  till 
you  'd  agree  to  suthin." 

"  Where  is  the  horse  now  ? " 

"  In  Peakslow's  stable.  He  wants  to  turn  him 
out  to  pastur',  but  he  's  afraid  you  're  hangin'  round. 
He  has  set  his  boys  to  diggin'  taters  over  ag'in  Bet- 


180  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

terson's  lot,  where  they  can  watch  for  ye.  What  he 
re'ly  wants  is,  for  you  to  come  back  and  make  him 
an  offer,  to  settle  the  hash  ;  for  he  's  a  little  skittish 
of  your  clappin'  the  law  ontew  him." 

"  I  wonder  he  did  n't  think  of  that  before." 

"  He  did,  but  he  says  you  'd  showed  yerself  a  kind 
of  easy,  accomodatin'  chap,  and  he  'd  no  notion  o' 
your  gettin'  so  blamed  riled  all  of  a  suddint." 

"  That  shows  how  much  good  it  does  to  be  easy 
with  a  man  like  him ! "  And  Jack,  thanking  old 
Wiggett  for  his  information,  disappeared  in  the  woods. 

He  found  the  boys  waiting  for  him,  and  told  them 
what  he  had  learned.  "  Now  my  cue  is,"  said  he, 
"  to  make  Peakslow  think  I  Ve  gone  home.  So  I 
may  as  well  leave  you  for  the  present.  Please  take 
care  of  my  saddle  and  bridle  and  gun  till  I  call  for 
them.  Good  by.  If  you  should  happen  to  come 
across  the  Peakslow  boys  —  you  understand  !  " 

Rufe  carelessly  returned  Jack's  good-by.  Then, 
leaving  "Wad  and  Link  to  go  by  the  way  of  the  spring 
and  take  care  of  the  pail  and  fork,  he  walked  down 
through  the  woods  to  the  road,  where  he  found  Zeph 
and  his  older  brother  Dud  digging  potatoes  in  Peaks- 
low's  corner  patch. 

"Hullo!"  Dud  called  out,  so  civilly  that  Ptufe 
knew  that  something  was  wanted  of  him. 

"  Hullo  yourself  and  see  how  you  like  it,"  Eufe 
retorted. 

"  Where  's  that  fellow  that  owns  the  hoss  ?  " 

"  How  should  I  know  ? " 


PREPARING  FOR  THE  ATTACK.        181 

"  He  stopped  to  your  house." 

"  That 's  so.     But  he  's  gone  now." 

"  Where  ? " 

"  I  don't  know.  He  told  us  to  keep  his  saddle  and 
bridle  and  gun  till  he  called  for  'em,  and  went  off. 
You  '11  hear  from,  him  before  many  days." 

Eufe's  tone  was  defiant ;  and  the  young  potato- 
diggers,  having,  as  they  supposed,  got  the  information 
they  wanted,  suffered  their  insolence  to  crop  out. 

"  We  ain't  afraid  of  him  nor  you  either,"  said  Zeph, 
leaning  on  his  hoe. 

"  Yes,  you  are  afraid  of  me,  too,  you  young  black 
guard  !  I  '11  tie  you  into  a  bow-knot  and  hang  you 
on  a  tree,  if  I  get  hold  of  you." 

"  Le's  see  ye  do  it ! " 

Eufe  answered  haughtily :  "  You  would  n't  stand 
there  and  sass  me,  if  you  did  n't  have  Dud  to  back 
you.  Just  come  over  the  fence  once,  and  leave  Dud 
on  the  other  side  ;  I  '11  pitch  you  into  the  middle  of 
next  week  so  quick  you  '11  be  dizzy  the  rest  of  your 
natural  life."  And  he  walked  on  up  the  road. 

"  Here !  come  back  !  I  '11  fight  you  !  You  're 
afraid  ! "  Zeph  yelled  after  him. 

"  I  '11  come  round  and  'tend  to  your  case  pretty 
soon,"  Eufe  replied.  "  I  Ve  something  of  more  im 
portance  to  look  after  just  now ;  I  've  a  pig  to  poke." 

Dud  went  on  digging  potatoes ;  but  Zeph  presently 
threw  down  his  hoe  and  ran  to  the  house.  Shortly 
after,  he  returned ;  and  then  Jack,  who  had  sat  down 
to  rest  in  a  commanding  position,  on  the  borders  of 


182  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

the  woodland,  was  pleased  to  see  Peakslow  lead  Snow- 
foot  down  the  slope  from  the  barn,  and  turn  him  into 
the  pasture. 

Eufe  got  home  some  time  before  his  brothers,  who 
seemed  to  linger  at  the  spring. 

"  There  they  are  ! "  said  Lill ;  «  Link  with  the  fork 
on  his  shoulder,  and  "Wad  bringing  the  pail." 

Rufe  was  sitting  on  the  grindstone  frame,  as  they 
came  into  the  yard. 

"  Did  you  hear  me  blackguard  the  Peakslow  boys  ? 
They  think  Jack  —  Hullo  ! "  Rufe  suddenly  ex 
claimed.  "  I  thought  you  was  Wad  ! " 

"  I  am,  for  the  present,"  said  Jack,  laughing  under 
Wad's  hat.  "  Do  you  think  Peakslow  will  know  me 
ten  rods  off?" 

"  Not  in  that  hat  and  coat !  Lill  and  I  both  took 
you  for  Wad." 

"  I  am  all  right,  then  !  Where  's  your  father  ?  I 
wonder  if  he  would  n't  like  to  try  my  gun." 

Lord  Betterson  now  came  out  of  the  house,  fresh 
from  his  after-dinner  nap,  and  looked  a  good  deal  of 
polite  surprise  at  seeing  Jack  in  Wad's  hat  and  coat. 

"  Mr.  Betterson,"  said  Jack,  "  Peakslow  thinks  I 
have  gone  home,  and  he  has  turned  Snowfoot  out  to 
grass.  Now,  if  I  should  wish  to  throw  down  a  corner 
of  the  fence  between  his  pasture  and  your  buck 
wheat,  have  you  any  objection  ? " 

"  None  whatever,"  replied  my  lord,  with  a  flourish, 
as  if  giving  Jack  the  freedom  of  his  acres. 

"  And  perhaps,"  said  Jack,  "  you  would  like  to  go 


PREPARING  FOR  THE  ATTACK.        183 

down  to  the  buckwheat-lot  with  me  and  try  my  gun. 
I  hear  you  are  a  crack  shot." 

"  I  can't  boast  much  of  my  marksmanship  now 
adays  ;  I  could  fetch  down  a  bird  once.  Thank  you, 

—  I  '11  go  with  pleasure." 

"  You  are  not  going  to  get  into  trouble,  Jack  ? " 
said  Yinnie,  with  lively  concern,  seeing  him  tie  the 
halter  to  his  back. 

"  O  no !  Mr.  Betterson  is  going  to  give  me  a 
lesson  in  shooting  on  the  wing.  I  '11  take  the  bridle, 
so  that  if  Siiowfoot  should  happen  to  jump  the 
fence  when  he  sees  me,  I  shall  be  ready  for  him, 
you  know.  Now  I  wonder  if  we  can  take  Lion  along 
without  his  being  seen.  He  is  tired  of  sitting  still." 

"  We  can  take  him  to  the  farther  side  of  the  corn 
field,  easily  enough." 

"  That  will  answer.  Come,  Lion  !  "  The  dog 
bounded  with  joy.  "  Keep  right  by  my  heels  now, 
old  fellow,  and  mind  every  word  I  say.  Don't  be 
anxious  about  us,  Vinnie.  And,  Eufe,  if  you  could 
manage  to  engage  the  Peakslow  boys  in  conversation, 
about  the  time  we  are  shooting  hens  pretty  near  the 
fence,  you  might  help  the  sport." 

"  I  '11  follow  you  along,  and  branch  off  toward  the 
potato-patch,  and  ask  Zeph  what  he  meant  by  offer 
ing  to  fight  me,"  said  Eufe. 

"  I  -'m  going  to  get  up  on  the  cow-shed,  and  see 
the  battle,"  said  Link.  "  On  Linden  when  the  sun 
was  low,  and  the  buckwheat-patch  was  all  in  blow, 

—  I  'm  a  poet,  you  know !  " 


184  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 


CHAPTEE  XXV. 

THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  BOUNDARY  FENCE. 

THE  little  party  set  off,  watched  by  Vinnie  with  a 
good  deal  of  anxiety.  The  dog  was  left  in  the  edge 
of  the  corn ;  and  Jack,  with  a  good  milky  ear  in  his 
pocket,  followed  Mr.  Betterson  into  the  buckwheat- 
field. 

"  There  's  Wad  and  his  dad  after  prairie  chickens," 
said  Zeph. 

"  Yes,"  said  Dud,  "  and  here  comes  Eufe  after  you. 
He  '11  give  you  Hail  Columby  one  of  these  days, 
when  I  ain't  round." 

"  I  11  resk  him,"  muttered  Zeph. 

"  Look  here,  you  young  scapegrace ! "  Eufe  called 
from  over  the  fence,  "  I  've  come  to  take  you  at  your 
word.  Want  to  fight  me,  do  ye  ?  I  'm  ready,  if 
you  're  particular  about  it." 

"  Come  near  me,  and  I  '11  sink  a  stun  in  your 
head ! "  said  Zeph,  frightened. 

"  You  've  got  that  phrase  from  the  Wiggett  boys," 
said  Eufe.  "  I  'd  fight  with  something  besides  bor 
rowed  slang,  if  I  was  you." 

Betterson  meanwhile  brought  down  a  prairie  chicken 
with  a  grace  of  gesture  and  suddenness  of  aim  which 
Jack  would  have  greatly  admired  if  he  had  not  had 
other  business  on  his  mind. 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  BOUNDARY  FENCE.  .  185 

The  bird  fell  in  the  direction  of  the  boundary  fence. 
Jack  ran  as  if  to  pick  it  up,  at  the  same  time  giving 
a  low  whistle  for  his  dog.  He  stooped,  and  was  for 
a  minute  hidden  by  the  fence  from  the  Peakslow 
boys,  —  if,  indeed,  Eufe  gave  them  leisure  just  then  to 
look  in  that  direction. 

Darting  forward  to  the  fence,  Jack  took  down  the 
top  rails  of  a  corner,  and  made  a  motion  to  Lion, 
who  leaped  over. 

"  Catch  Snowfoot !  catch  Snowfoot ! "  said  Jack, 
quickly  placing  the  ear  of  corn  in  the  dog's  mouth. 

The  horse  was  feeding  some  six  rods  off,  near 
Peakslow's  pair,  when  the  dog,  singling  him  out, 
ran  up  and  began  to  coquet  with  him,  flourishing 
the  ear  of  corn. 

The  boys  were  talking  so  loud,  and  Jack  had  let 
down  the  rails  so  gently,  and  Lion  had  sped  away 
so  silently,  that  the  movement  was  not  observed  by 
the  enemy  until  Snowfoot  started  for  the  fence. 
Even  then  the  excited  boys  did  not  see  what  was 
going  on.  But  Peakslow  did. 

If  Snowfoot  had  been  in  his  usual  spirits  he  would 
have  soon  been  off  the  Peakslow  premises.  But  his 
long  pull  from  Chicago  had  tamed  him ;  and  though 
hunger  induced  him  to  follow  the  ear  of  corn,  it  was 
at  a  pace  which  Jack  found  exasperatingly  slow,  — 
especially  when  he  saw  Peakslow  running  to  the 
pasture,  gun  in  hand,  and  heard  him  shout, — 

"  Let  that  hoss  alone  !  I  '11  shoot  you,  and  your 
do«  and  hoss  too  ! " 


186  THE  YOUNG   SURVEYOR. 

Jack  answered  by  calling,  "Co'  jock!  co'  jock! 
Come,  Lion  !  Come,  Snowfoot !  Co'  jock  ! " 

At  the  same  time  Zeph  and  Dud  took  the  alarm, 
and  ran  toward  the  gap  Jack  had  made,  —  they  on 
one  side  of  the  fence,  while  Rufe  raced  with  them 
on  the  other.  Meanwhile  Betterson,  having  coolly 
reloaded  his  discharged  barrel,  walked  with  his  usual 
quiet,  dignified  step  to  the  broken  fence. 

"Better  keep  this  side,"  he  said  with  deliberate 
politeness  to  Jack  "  You  are  on  my  land ;  you  've 
a  right  here." 

"  Oh !  but  that  horse  never  will  come ! "  said  Jack. 
"  Co'  jock !  co'  jock ! " 

"  He  is  all  right ;  keep  cool,  keep  cool ! "  said  Bet 
terson. 

On  came  Peakslow,  the  inverted  prow  of  his 
hooked  nose  cutting  the  air,  —  both  hands  grasping 
the  gun,  ready  for  a  shot. 

Jack  did  not  heed  him.  Snatching  the  corn  from 
Lion's  mouth,  he  held  it  out  to  Snowfoot:  in  a 
moment  Snowfoot  was  crunching  corn  and  bits,  and 
the  bridle  was  slipping  over  his  ears. 

"Head  him  off,  boys !"  shouted  Peakslow.  Then 
to  Jack,  "  Stop,  or  I  '11  shoot ! " 

"  If  there  's  any  shooting  to  be  done,"  said  Bet 
terson,  without  for  a  moment  losing  his  politeness 
of  tone  and  manner,  "  I  can  shoot  as  quick  as  any 
body  ;  and,  by  the  powers  above,  I  will,  if  you  draw 
trigger  on  that  boy ! " 

"  Take   care   of  him,  —  go  !  "   cried  Jack,  giving 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  BOUNDARY  FENCE.    187 

Lion  the  bridle-rein  and  Snowfoot  a   slap.     Then 
confronting    Peakslow,   "  I  've  got  my   horse ;    I  'm 


"STOP,  OB  I'LL  SHOOT  !" 

on  Mr.  Betterson's  land ;  what  have  you  to  say  about 
it?" 

"  1 11  shoot  your  dog  ! " 


188  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

"  No,  you  won't ! "  And  Jack  sprang  between  the 
infuriated  man  and  Lion  leading  off  the  horse. 

Dud  and  Zeph  were  by  this  time  on  Betterson's 
side  of  the  fence,  hurrying  to  head  off  Snowfoot. 

"  Keep  out  of  our  buckwheat ! "  cried  Rufe.  "  By 
George,  Zeph,  now  I  've  got  you  where  I  want  you." 

"  Help !    Dud,  Dud  —  help ! "  screamed  Zeph. 

But  Dud  had  something  else  to  do.  He  sprang 
to  seize  Snowfoot's  bridle ;  when  Lion,  without  loos 
ing  his  hold  of  it,  turned  with  such  fury  upon  the 
intruder,  that  he  recoiled,  and,  tripping  his  heels  in 
the  trodden  buckwheat,  keeled  over  backward. 

Meanwhile  Rufe  had  Zeph  down,  and  was  rubbing 
the  soft  black  loam  of  the  tilled  field  very  thoroughly 
into  his  features,  giving  especial  attention  to  his  neck 
and  ears.  Zeph  was  spitting  the  soil  of  the  country, 
and  screaming ;  and  Rufe  was  saying,  — 

"  Lie  still !  1 11  give  your  face  such  a  scouring  as 
it  has  n't  had  since  you  was  a  baby  and  fell  into  the 
soft-soap  barrel ! " 

Jack  backed  quietly  off,  as  Peakslow,  cocking  his 
gun,  pressed  upon  him  with  loud  threats  and  blazing 
eyes.  The  angry  man  was  striding  through  the  gap, 
when  Betterson  stepped  before  him,  courteous,  stately, 
with  a  polite  but  dangerous  smile. 

"Have  a  care,  friend  Peakslow!"  he  said.  "If 
you  come  upon  my  premises  with  a  gun,  threatening 
to  shoot  folks,  I  '11  riddle  you  with  small  shot ;  I  '11 
fill  you  as  full  of  holes  as  a  pepper-box ! " 


VICTORY.  189 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

VICTORY. 

PEAKSLOW  halted  in  the  gap  of  the  fence,  his  fury 
cooling  before  Lord  Betterson's  steady  eyes  and  quiet 
threat. 

Betterson  went  on,  speaking  deliberately,  while 
his  poised  and  ready  barrels  gave  emphasis  to  his 
remarks,  — 

"  You  Ve  talked  a  good  deal  of  shooting,  one  time 
and  another,  friend  Peakslow.  I  think  it  is  about 
time  to  have  done  with  that  foolishness.  Excuse  my 
frankness." 

"  I  've  a  right  to  defend  my  property  and  my 
premises ! "  said  Peakslow,  glowing  and  fuming, 
but  never  stepping  beyond  the  gap. 

"  What  property  or  premises,  good  neighbor  ?  The 
horse  is  this  young  man's ;  and  nobody  has  set  foot 
on  your  land." 

"  That  dog  was  on  my  land." 

"  And  so  was  the  horse,"  put  in  Jack. 

"  Take  him  off,  pa !  he 's  smotherin'  on  me ! " 
shouted  Zeph. 

"  Your  boy  is  abusin'  mine.  I  '11  take  care  o' 
him  I "  And  Peakslow  set  a  foot  over  the  two 
lower  rails  left  in  the  gap. 


190  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

"  You  'd  better  stay  where  you  are,  —  accept  a 
friend's  disinterested  advice,"  remarked  Betterson. 
"  If  your  boy  had  been  on  the  right  side  of  the 
fence,  minding  his  own  business,  —  you  will  bear 
with  me  if  I  am  quite  plain  in  my  speech,  —  my 
boy  would  have  had  no  occasion  to  soil  his  hands 
with  him." 

Peakslow  appeared  quite  cowed  by  this  unex 
pected  show  of  determination  in  his  easy-going 
neighbor.  He  stood  astride  the  rails,  just  where 
Betterson  had  arrested  his  advance,  and  contented 
himself  with  urging  Dud  to  the  rescue  of  his 
brother. 

"  Why  do  ye  stan'  there  and  see  Zeph  treated  that 
way  ?  Why  don't  ye  pitch  in  ? " 

"That's  a  game  two  can  play  at,"  said  Jack. 
"Hands  off,  Dud,  my  boy."  And  he  stood  by  to 
see  fair  play. 

"  My  boy  had  a  right  on  that  land ;  it 's  by  good 
rights  mine  to-day ! "  exclaimed  Peakslow. 

"  We  won't  discuss  that  question ;  it  has  been 
settled  once,  neighbor,"  replied  Betterson.  "Rufus, 
I  think  you  've  done  enough  for  that  boy ;  his  face 
is  blacker  than  I  ever  saw  it,  which  is  saying  a 
good  deal.  Let  him  go.  Mr.  Peakslow,"  —  with  a 
bow  of  gracious  condescension  over  the  frayed  stock, 
— "  you  are  welcome  to  as  much  of  this  disputed 
territory  as  you  can  shake  out  of  that  youngster's 
clothes,  —  not  any  more." 

"  That  seems  to  be  a  good  deal,"  said  Jack,  laugh- 


VICTORY.  191 

ing  to  see  Zeph  scramble  up,  gasping,  blubbering, 
flirting  soil  from  his  clothes  and  hair,  and  clawing 
it  desperately  from  his  besmeared  face. 

"That's  for  daring  me  to  fight  you,"  said  Eufe, 
as  he  let  him  go.  "  I  '11  pay  you  some  other  time 
for  what  you  did  to  Cecie " ;  while  Zeph  went  off 
howling. 

"  No  more,  Eufus,"  said  Betterson.  "  Come  and 
put  up  this  fence." 

"  I  '11  do  that,"  said  Jack.  "  I  'm  bound  to  leave 
it  as  I  found  it;  if  Mr.  Peakslow  will  please  step 
either  forward  or  back." 

Peakslow  concluded  to  step  back ;  and  Jack  and 
Eufe  laid  up  the  corner,  rail  by  rail. 

"  Don't  you  think  you  've  played  me  a  perty 
shabby  trick  ? "  said  Peakslow,  glaring  at  Jack. 

"You  are  hardly  the  man  to  speak  with  a  very 
good  grace  of  anybody's  shabby  tricks,"  Jack  replied, 
putting  up  the  top  rail  before  the  hooked  nose. 

"  I  did  n't  think  it  of  you ! "  And  Peakslow  cast 
longing  eyes  after  the  horse. 

"You  must  have  forgotten  what  you  thought," 
said  Jack.  "  You  did  n't  dare  turn  the  horse  out 
till  Zeph  told  you  I  'd  gone  home ;  and  it  seems 
you  kept  pretty  close  watch  of  him  then." 

Peakslow  choked  back  his  wrath,  and  muttered,  — 

"  Ye  might  'a'  gi'n  me  suthin  for  my  trouble." 

"  So  I  would,  willingly,  if  you  had  acted  decently." 

"  Gi'  me  suthin  now,  and  settle  it." 

"I  consider  it  already  settled,  —  like  your  land- 


192  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

claim  dispute,"  said  Jack.  "But  no  matter;  how 
much  do  you  want  ?  Don't  bid  too  high,  you 
know." 

"  Gi'  me  a  dollar,  anyhow ! " 

Jack  laughed. 

"If  I  should  give  you  enough  to  pay  for  the 
charge  in  your  gun,  wouldn't  that  satisfy  you? 
Though,  as  you  didn't  fire  it  at  me,  I  don't  quite 
see  that  I  ought  to  defray  the  expense  of  it.  Good 
day,  Mr.  Peakslow." 

Jack  went  to  find  the  chicken  that  had  been  shot ; 
and  Peakslow  vented  his  rage  upon  his  neighbor 
across  the  fence. 

"What  a  pattern  of  a  man  you  be!  stuck-up, 
strutting  —  a  turkey-gobbler  kind  of  man,  I  call  ye. 
Think  I  'm  afraid  o'  yer  gun  ? " 

"I  have  no  answer  to  make  to  remarks  of  that 
nature,"  said  Lord  Betterson,  retiring  from  the  fence. 

"  Hain't,  hey  ? "  Peakslow  roared  after  him.  "  Feel 
above  a  common  man  like  me,  do  ye  ?  Guess  I  pay 
my  debts.  If  I  set  out  to  build,  guess  I  look  out 
and  not  bu'st  up  'fore  I  get  m'y  paintin'  and  plasterin' 
done.  Nothin'  to  say  to  me,  hey  ? " 

Betterson  coolly  resumed  his  slow  and  stately 
march  across  the  buckwheat,  looking  for  prairie 
chickens. 

"You  puffed-up,  pompous,  would-be  'ristocrat!" 
said  Peakslow,  more  and  more  furious,  "  where  'd 
you  be  if  your  relations  did  n't  furnish  ye  money  ? 
Poorer  'n  ye  be  now,  I  guess.  What  if  I  should 


VICTORY.  193 

tell  ye  what  yer  neighbors  say  of  ye  ?  Guess  ye 
would  n't  carry  yer  head  so  plaguy  high ! " 

Two  chickens  rose  from  before  Betterson's  feet, 
and  flew  to  right  and  left.  With  perfect  coolness 
and  precision  of  aim  he  fired  and  brought  down  one, 
then  turned  and  dropped  the  other,  with  scarce  an 
interval  of  three  seconds  between  the  reports. 

"  This  is  a  very  pretty  piece  of  yours,"  he  observed 
smilingly,  with  a  stately  wave  of  the  hand  toward 
Jack. 

"  I  never  saw  anything  so  handsomely  done  ! "  ex 
claimed  Jack,  bringing  the  chicken  previously  shot. 

At  the  same  time  he  could  not  help  glancing  with 
some  apprehension  at  Peakslow,  not  knowing  what 
that  excitable  neighbor  might  do,  now  that  Better- 
son's  two  barrels  were  empty. 

"I  think  I  will  stay  and  have  one  or  two  more 
shots,"  said  Betterson.  "A  very  pretty  piece  in 
deed!" 

The  muttering  thunder  of  Peakslow's  wrath  died 
away  in  the  distance,  as  he  retired  with  his  forces. 
Rufe  picked  up  the  last  two  prairie  chickens  and 
followed  Jack,  who  ran  to  overtake  the  dog  and 
horse. 

Lion  still  held  the  bridle-rein,  letting  Snowfoot 
nip  the  grass  that  grew  along  the  borders  of  the 
corn,  but  keeping  him  from  the  corn  itself.  Jack 
patted  and  praised  the  dog,  and  stroked  and  caressed 
the  horse,  looking  him  all  over  to  see  if  he  had 
received  any  fresh  injury. 


194  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

Then  Eufe  joined  him ;  and  presently  Wad  came 
bounding  down  the  slope  from  the  barn,  laughing, 
carrying  Jack's  coat;  and  Link  appeared,  running 
and  limping,  having  hurt  his  ankle  in  jumping  down 
from  the  cow-shed.  Behind  came  Chokie,  trudging 
on  his  short  legs,  and  tumbling  and  sprawling  at 
every  few  steps. 

The  boys  were  jubilant  over  the  victory,  and  Jack 
was  the  object  of  loud  congratulations;  while  Lion 
and  Snowfoot  formed  the  centre  of  the  little  group. 

"Much  obliged  to  you,  "Wad,"  said  Jack,  as  they 
re-exchanged  coats  and  hats.  "  Thanks  to  you,  I  've 
got  my  horse  again.  Thanks  to  all  of  you.  Boys,  I 
was  perfectly  astonished  at  your  father's  pluck ! " 
And  he  could  not  help  thinking  what  a  really  noble 
specimen  of  a  man  Betterson  might  have  made,  if  he 
had  not  been  standing  on  his  dignity  and  waiting  for 
legacies  all  his  life. 

"  Not  many  folks  know  what  sort  of  a  man  father 
is,"  replied  Eufe.  "  Peakslow  would  have  found  out, 
if  he  had  drawn  a  bead  on  you.  How  quick  he 
stopped,  and  changed  countenance !  He  can  govern 
his  temper  when  he  finds  he  must ;  and  he  can  cringe 
and  crawl  when  he  sees  it 's  for  his  interest.  Think 
of  his  asking  you  at  last,  —  after  you  had  got  your 
horse  in  spite  of  him,  and  at  the  risk  of  your  life,  — 
think  of  his  begging  you  to  give  him  a  dollar!" 

Jack  said,  "Look  at  that  galled  spot  on  Snow- 
foot's  neck !  Peakslow  has  got  all  he  could  out  of 
him  the  past  week,  —  kept  him  low  and  worked  him 


VICTORY.  195 

hard  in  a  cruel  collar.  Never  mind,  old  Snowfoot ! 
better  times  have  come  now,  for  both  of  us.  Here, 
Link,  you  are  lame  ;  want  a  ride  ? " 

Link  did  want  a  ride,  of  course,  —  who  ever  saw  a 
boy  that  did  n't  ?  Jack  took  hold  of  his  foot  and 
helped  him  mount  upon  Snowfoot's  back  ;  then  called 
to  Chokie,  who  was  getting  up  from  his  last  tumble 
(with  loud  lamentations),  a  few  yards  off. 

"  Here,  Chokie ;  don't  cry ;  fun  is  n't  all  over  yet ; 
you  can  ride  too."  Tossing  the  urchin  up,  Jack  set 
him  behind  Link.  "  Hold  on  now,  Chokie ;  hug 
brother  tight!" 

Both  chubby  arms  reaching  half  around  Link's 
waist,  one  chubby  cheek  pressed  close  to  Link's  sus 
pender,  and  two-  chubby  legs  sticking  out  on  Snow- 
foot's  back,  Chokie  forgot  his  griefs,  and,  with  the 
tear-streaks  still  wet  on  his  cheeks,  enjoyed  the  fear 
ful  pleasure  of  the  ride. 

Vinnie's  bright  face  watched  from  the  door,  the 
delighted  Lill  clapped  her  hands,  and  Mrs.  Betterson 
and  Cecie  looked  eagerly  from  the  window,  as  the 
little  procession  approached  the  house,  —  Lion  walk 
ing  sedately  before,  then  Link  and  Chokie  riding  the 
lost  horse,  and  Jack  and  Eufe  and  Wad  following 
with  the  prairie  chickens. 

More  congratulations.  Then  Lord  Betterson  came 
from  the  field  with  another  bird.  Then  Snowfoot 
was  saddled,  and  Jack,  with  dog  and  gun,  and  two 
of  the  prairie  chickens,  took  leave  of  his  friends,  and 
rode  home  in  triumph. 


196  THE  YOUNG   SUKVEYOR. 


CHAPTEE  XXVII. 

VINNIE  IN  THE   LION'S  DEN. 

WHEN  Link  the  next  morning  went  to  the  spring 
for  water  he  found  that  the  Peakslow  boys  (it  could 
have  been  nobody  else)  had,  by  a  dastardly  trick, 
taken  revenge  for  the  defeat  of  the  day  before. 

Link  came  limping  back  (his  ankle  was  still  sore) 
with  an  empty  pail,  and  loud  complaints  of  the 
enemy. 

"  They  've  been  and  gone  and  filled  the  spring  with 
earth  and  leaves  and  sticks,  and  all  sorts  of  rubbish  ! 
It  will  take  an  hour  to  dig  it  out,  and  then  all  day 
for  the  water  to  settle  and  be  fit  to  drink." 

"  Those  dreadful  Peakslow  boys  !  what  shall  we 
do  ? "  Caroline  said  despairingly.  "  No  water  for 
breakfast,  and  no  near  neighbors  but  the  Peakslows ; 
but  their  well  is  the  last  place  where  we  should 
think  of  going  for  water." 

"  I  '11  tell  you  what  /  '11  do ! "  said  Link.  "  I  '11  go 
to-night  and  give  'em  such  a  dose  in  their  well,  that 
they  won't  want  any  water  from  it  for  the  next  two 
months !  I  know  where  there 's  a  dead  rabbit.  The 
Peakslows  don't  get  the  start  of  us ! " 

"  I  don't  see  but  that  one  of  the  boys  will  have  to 
go  to  Mr.  Wiggett's  for  water,"  said  poor  Caroline, 
bemoaning  her  troubles. 


VINNIE  IN  THE  LION'S  DEN.  197 

"  Eufe  and  Wad  are  doing  the  chores,"  said  Link, 
"  and  I  'm  lame.  Besides,  you  don't  catch  one  of  us 
going  to  old  Wiggett's  for  water,  for  we  should  have 
to  pass  Peakslow's  house,  and  it  would  please  'em  too 
well." 

"Let  me  take  the  pail;  I  will  get  some  water," 
said  Vinnie. 

"  Why,  Lavinia  dear ! "  Caroline  exclaimed,  "  what 
are  you  thinking  of  ?  Where  are  you  going  ? " 

"To  Mr.  Peakslow's,"  Vinnie  answered  with  a 
smile. 

"  Going  into  the  lion's  den !  Don't  think  of  such 
a  thing,  Lavinia  dear  ! " 

"  No,  hy  sixty ! "  cried  Link.  "  I  don't  want  them 
boys  to  sass  you !  I  'd  rather  go  a  mile  in  the  other 
direction  for  water,  —  bother  the  lame  foot ! " 

But  Vinnie  quietly  persisted,  saying  it  would  do 
no  harm  for  her  to  try ;  and  putting  on  her  bonnet, 
she  started  off  with  the  empty  pail. 

I  cannot  say  that  she  felt  no  misgivings ;  but  the 
consciousness  of  doing  a  simple  and  blameless  act 
helped  to  quiet  the  beating  of  her  heart  as  she  ap 
proached  the  Peakslow  door. 

It  was  open,  and  she  could  see  the  family  at 
breakfast  within,  while  the  loud  talking  prevented 
her  footsteps  from  being  heard. 

Besides  Dud  and  Zeph,  there  were  three  or  four 
younger  children,  girls  and  boys,  the  youngest  of 
whom  —  a  child  with  bandaged  hands  and  arms  — 
sat  in  its  father's  lap. 


198  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

Vinnie  remembered  the  swarthy  face,  bushy  beard, 
and  hooked  nose ;  and  yet  she  could  hardly  believe 
that  this  was  the  same  man  who  once  showed  her 
such  ruffianly  manners  on  the  wharf  in  Chicago.  He 
was  fondling  and  feeding  the  child,  and  talking  to  it, 
and  drumming  on  the  table  with  his  knife  to  amuse 
it  and  still  its  complaining  cries. 

"Surely,"  thought  Vinnie,  "there  must  be  some 
good  in  a  man  who  shows  so  much  affection  even 
toward  his  own  child."  And  with  growing  courage 
she  advanced  to  the  threshold. 

Mrs.  Peakslow  —  a  much -bent,  over-worked  wo 
man,  with  a  pinched  and  peevish  face  —  looked  up 
quickly  across  the  table  and  stared  at  the  strange 
visitor.  In  a  moment  all  eyes  were  turned  upon 
Vinnie. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  she  said,  pausing  at  the  door. 
"I  wish  to  get  a  pail  of  water.  Can  I  go  to  your 
well  and  help  myself?" 

The  children  —  and  especially  Dud  and  Zeph  — 
looked  in  astonishment  at  the  bright  face  and  girlish 
form  in  the  doorway.     As  Mr.  Peakslow  turned  his 
face  toward  her,  all  the  tenderness  went  out  of  it. 

"What  do  Betterson's  folks  send  here  for  water 
for  ?  And  what  makes  'em  send  a  gal  ?  Why  don't 
they  come  themselves  ?  " 

"They  did  not  send  me,"  Vinnie  answered  as 
pleasantly  as  she  could.  "I  came  of  my  own  ac 
cord." 

Peakslow  wheeled  round  on  his  chair. 


VINNIE  IN  THE  LION'S  DEN.  199 

"  Queer  sort  of  folks,  they  be !  An'  seems  to  me 
you  must  be  queer,  to  be  stoppin'  with  'em." 

"  Mrs.  Betterson  is  my  sister,"  replied  Vinnie  in  a 
trembling  voice.  "  I  came  to  her  because  she  is  sick, 
and  Cecie  —  because  I  was  needed,"  she  said,  avoid 
ing  the  dangerous  ground  of  Zeph's  offence. 

"  I  Ve  nothin'  pa'tic'lar  ag'in  Mis'  Betterson  as  I 
know  on,"  said  Peakslow,  "  though  of  course  she  sides 
with  him  ag'in  me,  an'  of  course  you  side  with  her" 

"  I  Ve  nothing  to  do  with  Mr.  Betterson's  quar 
rels,"  Vinnie  answered,  drawing  back  from  the  door. 
"  Will  you  kindly  permit  me  to  get  a  pail  of  water  ? 
I  am  sorry  if  I  give  you  any  trouble." 

"No  trouble;  water's  cheap,"  said  Peakslow. 
"  But  why  don't  they  have  a  well  o'  their  own,  'ste'd 
o'  dependin'  on  their  neighbors  ?  What  makes  'em 
so  plaguy  shif 'less  ? " 

"They  have  a  well,  but  it  is  dry  this  summer, 
and—" 

"  Dry  every  summer,  ain't  it  ?  What  a  way  to  dig 
a  well  that  was  ! " 

"  They  have  a  very  good  spring,"  Vinnie  said,  "  but 
something  happened  to  it  last  night."  At  which 
Dud  and  Zeph  giggled  and  looked  sheepish. 

"  What  happened  to  the  spring  ? " 

"Somebody  put  rubbish  into  it." 

"  Who  done  it,  did  you  hear  'em  say  ? " 

"  I  don't  know  who  did  it ;  and  I  should  be  sorry 
to  accuse  any  person  of  such  an  act,"  Vinnie  an 
swered  with  firm  but  serene  dignity. 


200  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOE. 

The  boys  looked  more  sheepish  and  giggled  less. 

"  I  know  who  put  stuff  in  the  spring,"  spoke  up  a 
little  one,  proud  of  being  able  to  convey  useful  infor 
mation;  "Dud  and  Zeph — " 

But  at  that  moment  Dud's  hand  stopped  the  prat 
tler's  mouth. 

"  I  don't  believe  my  boys  have  done  anything  of 
the  kind,"  said  Peakslow ;  "  though  't  would  n't  be 
strange  if  they  did.  See  how  that  great  lubberly 
Eufe  treated  our  Zeph  yist'day  !  rubbed  the  dirt  into 
his  skin  so  't  he  hain't  got  it  washed  out  yit." 

"I  am  sorry  for  these  misunderstandings,"  said 
Vinnie,  turning  to  Mrs.  Peakslow  with  an  appealing 
look.  "  I  wish  you  and  my  sister  knew  each  other 
better.  You  have  a  sick  child,  too,  I  see." 

"  'T  ain't  sick,  'xac'ly,"  replied  the  mother  in  a 
peevish,  snarling  tone.  "  Pulled  over  the  teapot,  and 
got  hands  and  arms  scalt." 

"  O,  poor  little  thing ! "  Vinnie  exclaimed.  "  What 
have  you  done  for  it  ? " 

"  Hain't  done  nothin'  much,  only  wrapped  up  the 
blistered  places  in  Injin  meal ;  that 's  coolin'." 

"  No  doubt ;  but  I  've  some  salve,  the  best  thing  in 
the  world  for  burns.  I  wish  you  would  let  me  bring 
you  some." 

"I  guess  Bubby'll  git  along  'thout  no  help  from 
outside,"  said  Peakslow,  his  ill-natured  growl  soft 
ened  by  a  feeling  of  tenderness  for  the  child  which 
just  then  came  over  him.  "  He  's  weathered  the 
wust  on't." 


VINNIE  IN  THE  LION'S  DEN.  201 

But  Bubby's  fretful  cries  told  that  what  was  left 
was  bad  enough. 

" I  will  bring  you  the  salve,"  said  Yinnie,  "and  I 
hope  you  will  try  it;  it  is  so  hard  to  see  these  little 
ones  suffer." 

She  was  retiring,  when  Peakslow  called  after 
her, — 

"Goin'  'ithout  the  water?" 

"I  —  thought  —  you  had  not  told  me  I  could 
have  it." 

"  Have  it !  of  course  you  can  have  it ;  I  would  n't 
refuse  nobody  a  pail  o'  water.  Ye  see  where  the 
well  is  ? " 

"0  yes;  thank  you."  And  Yinnie  hastened  to 
the  curb. 

"  She  can't  draw  it,"  snickered  Zeph.  "  Handle 's 
broke ;  and  the  crank  '11  slip  out  of  her  hands  and 
knock  her  to  Jericho,  if  she  don't  look  out." 

"  Seems  to  be  a  perty  spoken  gal,"  said  Peakslow, 
turning  to  finish  his  breakfast.  "  I  've  nothin'  ag'in 
Jier.  You  Ve  finished  your  breakfast ;  better  go  out, 
Dudley,  and  tell  her  to  look  out  about  the  crank." 

With  mixed  emotions  in  his  soul,  Dud  went ;  his 
countenance  enlivened  at  one  and  the  same  time 
with  a  blush  of  boyish  bashfulness  and  a  malicious 
grin.  As  he  drew  near,  and  saw  Vinnie  embarrassed 
with  the  windlass,  which  seemed  determined  to  let 
the  bucket  down  too  fast  (as  if  animated  with  a  gen 
uine  Peakslow  spite  toward  her),  the  grin  predomi 
nated  ;  but  when  she  turned  upon  him  a  troubled, 
9* 


202  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

smiling  face,  the  grin  subsided,  and  the  blush  became 
a  general  conflagration,  extending  to  the  tips  of  his 
ears. 

"  How  does 't  go?" 

"  It 's  inclined  to  go  altogether  too  fast,"  said  Vin- 
nie,  stopping  the  windlass  ;  "  and  it  hurts  my  hands." 

"  Le'  me  show  ye." 

And  Dud,  taking  her  place  by  the  curb,  let  the 
windlass  revolve  with  moderated  velocity  under  the 
pressure  of  his  rough  palms,  until  the  bucket  struck 
the  water.  Then,  drawing  it  up,  he  filled  her  paiL 

The  grin  had  by  this  time  faded  quite  out  of  his 
countenance;  and  when  she  thanked  him  sweetly 
and  sincerely  for  helping  her,  the  blush  became  a 
blush  of  pleasure. 

"  It  is  more  than  I  can  carry,"  she  said.  "  I  shall 
have  to  pour  out  some." 

Thereupon  Dud  Peakslow  astonished  himself  by 
an  extraordinary  act  of  gallantry. 

"  1 11  carry  it  for  ye  as  fur  as  the  road ;  I  'd  carry 
it  all  the  way,  if  't  was  anywhere  else."  And  he  ac 
tually  took  up  the  paiL 

"  You  seem  to  have  a  very  bad  opinion  of  my  rela 
tions,"  Vinnie  said. 

"  Good  reason  !    They  hate  us,  too ! " 

"  And  think  they  have  good  reason.  But  I  'm  sure 
you  are  not  so  bad  as  they  believe;  and  you  may 
possibly  be  mistaken  about  them.  Let  me  take  the 
pail  now.  You  are  very  kind." 

Dud  gave  up  the  pail  with  reluctance,  and  gazed 


VINNIE  IN  THE  LION'S  DEN.  203 

after  her  up  the  road,  his  stupid  mouth  ajar  with  an 
expression  of  wistful  wonder  and  pleasure. 

"Hurry  now  and  git  up  the  team,  Dud!"  his 
father  called  from  the  door.  "  What  ye  stan'in'  there 
for  ?  Did  n't  ye  never  see  a  gal  afore  ? " 

When  Vinnie  reached  home  with  her  pail  of 
water,  all  gathered  around,  eager  to  hear  her  ad 
venture. 

"The  lions  were  not  very  savage,  after  all,"  she 
said,  laughing. 


204  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

AN  "EXTRAORDINARY"  GIRL. 

AFTER  breakfast  Vinnie  left  Lill  to  "do  the 
dishes,"  and  went  with  her  box  of  salve  to  fulfil 
her  promise  to  Mrs.  Peakslow.  Dud  and  Zeph  were 
off  at  work  with  their  father ;  and  she  was  glad  to 
find  the  mother  alone  with  the  younger  children. 

"  Oh  !  you  ag'in  ? "  said  Mrs.  Peakslow,  by  the  chim 
ney,  looking  up  from  a  skillet  she  was  stooping  over 
and  scraping.  "  Ye  need  n't  'a'  took  the  trouble. 
Guess  Bubby's  burns  '11  git  along." 

But  Vinnie  was  not  to  be  rebuffed. 

"I  have  brought  some  linen  rags  to  spread  the 
salve  on.  Will  you  let  rne  do  it  myself?  I  wish 
you  would;  the  poor  thing  is  suffering  so." 

And  Vinnie  knelt  down  beside  the  girl  who  was 
holding  Bubby  in  her  arms. 

"Is't  any  o'  the  Betterson  folks's  saV?"  Mrs. 
Peakslow  inquired,  scraping  away  at  her  skillet. 

"  No ;  it  is  some  I  brought  from  the  East  with  me, 
thinking  I  should  find  a  use  for  it  in  my  sister's  fam 
ily;  it  is  good  for  various  things." 

"  Better  keep  it  for  her  family ! "  snarled  Mrs. 
Peakslow.  Scrape,  scrape. 

"  There  's  plenty  and  to  spare,"  said  Vinnie,  unroll- 


AN  "EXTRAORDINARY"  GIRL.  205 

ing  her  rags.  "  And  my  sister  will  be  only  too  glad 
if  it  can  be  of  any  service  to  you." 

"Think  so?"  Mrs.  Peakslow  stopped  her  scrap 
ing  and  scowled  at  Vinnie.  "  Her  folks  hain't  never 
showed  us  none  too  much  good-will." 

"  They  have  never  known  you,  —  you  have  never 
understood  each  other,"  said  Vinnie.  "  It  is  too  bad 
that  the  troubles  between  the  men  should  prevent 
you  and  her  from  being  on  neighborly  terms.  Can  I 
use  a  corner  of  this  table  to  spread  the  salve  ?  And 
can  I  see  the  little  thing's  burns,  so  as  to  shape  the 
plasters  to  cover  them  ? " 

"He  tol'  me  not  to  use  the  saV,  if  ye  brought 
it,"  said  Mrs.  Peakslow  doubtfully,  laying  down  the 
skillet. 

"  When  he  sees  the  good  effect  of  it  I  am  sure  he 
won't  complain  ;  he  is  too  fond  of  his  little  boy,"  said 
Vinnie,  placing  rags  and  salve  on  the  table.  "  Will 
you  let  me  take  a  case-knife  and  a  pair  of  scissors  ? " 

"  Got  rags  enough  of  my  own.  Need  n't  trouble 
yourself  to  cut  and  spread  plasters.  Try  the  saV,  'f 
ye  say  so." 

Vinnie  did  say  so,  and  dressed  Bubby's  burns  with 
her  own  hands,  doing  the  work  so  deftly  and  ten 
derly,  talking  now  to  the  child,  now  to  the  mother, 
who  had  taken  him  into  her  lap,  and  showing  in 
every  look  and  tone  so  cheerful  and  sweet  a  spirit 
that  poor  Mrs.  Peakslow's  peevish  heart  warmed  and 
softened  toward  her. 

"I  do  declare,"   she   said,  as   the  outer  bandages 


206  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

were  going  on,  "Bubby  feels  comforted  a'ready. 
Must  be  dreffle  good  saV !  Much  obleeged  to  ye, 
I  'm  sure.  How  is  yer  sister  ? " 

"  Much  better  than  she  was ;  and  the  baby  is  bet 
ter  too.  Indeed,"  said  Vinnie,  "I  think  the  baby 
will  get  well  as  soon  as  the  mother  does." 

"  And  Cecie  —  how 's  Cecie  ? "  Mrs.  Peakslow  tim 
idly  asked. 

"  0,  Cecie  is  in  very  good  spirits !  She  is  the  most 
gentle,  patient,  beautiful  girl  you  ever  saw !  She 
never  complains ;  and  she  is  always  so  grateful  for 
any  little  thing  that  is  done  for  her ! " 

"  S'pose  the  folks  feel  hard  to  our  Zeph ;  don't 
they?" 

"  I  believe  the  boys  do,  and  you  can  hardly  wonder 
at  it,  Mrs.  Peakslow,"  said  Vinnie ;  "  their  own  dear 
sister!  crippled  for  life,  perhaps.  But  Cecie  won't 
allow  that  your  son  meant  to  hurt  her ;  she  always 
takes  his  part  when  the  subject  is  brought  up." 

"  Does  she  ? "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Peakslow,  surprised 
into  sudden  tears.  "  I  would  n't  'a'  believed  that ! 
Must  be  she  's  a  good  gaL  Truth  is,  Zeph  had  n't  no 
notion  o'  hurtin'  on  her.  It 's  re'ly  troubled  me,  — 
it's  troubled  all  on  us,  though  I  don't  s'pose  her 
folks  '11  believe  it. " 

And  Mrs.  Peakslow,  not  finding  it  convenient  to 
get  at  her  apron,  with  Bubby  in  her  lap,  wiped  her 
eyes  with  a  remnant  of  Vinnie's  rags. 

"  Is  n't  it  too  sad  that  this  quarrel  is  kept  up  ? " 
said  Vinnie. 


AN  "EXTRAORDINARY"  GIRL.  207 

"  0  dear  me !  nobody  knows,"  said  Mrs.  Peakslow, 
in  a  quavering  voice,  "  what  a  life  it  is !  Our  folks 
is  some  to  blame,  I  s'pose.  But  the  Bettersons  have 
been  so  aggravatin' !  Though  I  Ve  nothin'  ag'in  the 
gals.  They  're  as  perty  gals  as  I  'd  ask  to  have  play 
with  my  children.  My  children  is  sufferin'  for  mates. 
I  want  society,  too,  for  it 's  a  dreffle  life,  —  a  dreffle 
life ! "  And  the  quavering  voice  broke  into  sobs. 

Vinnie  was  surprised  and  pained  at  this  outburst, 
and  hardly  knew  what  reply  to  make. 

"  Lyddy,  wipe  them  dishes  ! "  Mrs.  Peakslow  went 
on  again,  sopping  her  eyes  with  the  remnant  of  rags. 
"Lecty  Ann!  here,  take  Bubby.  Scuse  me,  miss; 
I  d'n'  know  what  sot  me  goin'  this  way ;  but  my 
heart 's  been  shet  up  so  long ;  I  Ve  so  wanted  sym 
pathy  ! "  And  now  the  apron  did  service  in  place  of 
the  rags. 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  said  Yinnie.  "  This  is  a  lonesome 
country,  unless  you  have  friends  around  you.  There 
seem  to  be  a  few  nice  people  here,  —  people  from  the 
East ;  you  are  from  the  East,  I  suppose  ? " 

"  0  yes ;  but  he  ain't  a  very  social  man,  an'  he 's 
dreffle  sot  in  his  way.  He  don't  go  out  nowheres, 
'thout  he  has  business,  an'  he  don't  think  there's 
any  need  of  a  woman's  goin'  out.  So  there  it  is. 
The  Wiggetts,  our  neighbors  on  one  side,  ain't  our 
kind  o'  people ;  then  there 's  the  Bettersons  on 
t'other  side.  An'  there's  allus  so  many  things  a 
wife  has  to  put  up  with,  an'  hold  her  tongue.  O 
dear !  O  dear  !  Keep  to  your  work,  gals  !  hear  ? " 


208  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

There  was  something  almost  comical  in  this  sharp 
and  shrill  winding-up  of  the  good  woman's  pathetic 
discourse ;  but  Vinnie  never  felt  less  like  laughing. 

"  I  am  glad  you  can  speak  freely  to  me,"  she  said. 
"  I  '11  come  and  see  you  again,  if  you  will  let  me ;  and 
I  want  you  some  time  to  come  and  see  my  sister." 

"  I  d'n'  know  !  I  d'n'  know  ! "  said  Mrs.  Peakslow, 
still  weeping.  "  You  may  come  here,  —  like  to  have 
ye,  —  only  it  '11  be  jest  as  well  if  you  time  your  vis 
its  when  me  an'  the  gals  is  alone ;  you  know  what 
men-folks  be." 

"You  are  really  an  extraordinary  girl,  Lavinia 
dear!"  Caroline  said,  when  Vinnie  went  home  and 
told  her  story.  "  Did  you  know-  it  ? " 

Vinnie  laughed. 

"  Why,  no ;  I  never  thought  of  such  a  thing ;  what 
I  do  comes  so  very  natural." 

"Extraordinary  !"  Caroline  repeated,  regarding  her 
admiringly.  "  I  'm  proud  of  such  a  sister.  I  always 
told  Mr.  Betterson  there  was  good  blood  on  our  side 
too.  I  wonder  what  Radcliff  would  think  of  you." 

Vinnie  sincerely  believed  that  so  fine  a  young 
gentleman  would  not  think  anything  of  her  at  all, 
but  feared  it  might  seem  like  affectation  in  he  to 
say  so. 

"And  I  wonder,"  Caroline  continued,  with  the 
usual  simper  which  her  favorite  theme  inspired, 
"what  you  would  think  of  Eadcliff.  Ah,  Lavinia 
dear !  it  is  a  comfort  for  me  to  reflect  that  it  was  a 
Betterson  —  nobody  less  than  a  thoroughbred  Bet- 


AN  "  EXTRAORDINARY  "   GIRL.  209 

terson  —  who  took  the  place  in  our  family  which 
you  would  otherwise  have  filled." 

Evidently  Caroline's  conscience  was  not  quite  easy 
on  the  subject  of  her  early  neglect  of  so  "extraor 
dinary  "  a  sister ;  for  she  often  alluded  to  it  in  this 
way.  Vinnie  now  begged  her  not  to  mention  it  again. 

"  And  you  really  cherish  no  hard  feelings  ? " 

"  None  whatever." 

"  You  are  very  good.  And  pretty  ;  did  you  know 
it  ?  Quite  pretty." 

Vinnie  laughed  again. 

"Mrs.  Presbit  brought  me  up  to  the  wholesome 
belief  that  I  was  quite  plain." 

"That  was  to  prevent  you  from  becoming  vain. 
Vanity,  you  know,"  said  Caroline,  with  her  most 
exquisite  simper,  "  spoils  so  many  girls  !  I  'm  thank 
ful  it  does  n't  run  in  our  family  !  But  did  n't  your 
glass  undeceive  you  ? " 

"  On  the  contrary,  I  used  to  look  in  it  and  say  to 
myself,  '  It  is  a  very  common  face ;  I  wish  it  was 
pretty,  but  Aunt  Presbit  is  right ;  I  'm  a  homely 
little  thing  ! '  " 

"  And  you  felt  bad  ?  " 

"I  never  mourned  over  it;  though,  of  course,  I 
should  have  much  preferred  to  be  handsome.". 

"  And  has  n't  anybody  ever  told  you  you  were 
handsome  ? " 

Vinnie  blushed. 

"  Of  course  I  've  heard  a  good  deal  of  nonsense 
talked  now  and  then." 


210  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

"  Lavinia  dear,  you  are  extraordinary.  And  hand 
some,  though  not  in  the  usual  sense  of  the  word. 
Your  face  is  rather  common,  in  repose,  but  it  lights 
up  wonderfully.  And,  after  all,  I  don't  know  that 
it  is  so  much  your  face,  as  the  expression  you  throw 
into  it,  that  is  so  enchanting.  What  would  Eadcliff 
Betterson  say  to  you,  I  wonder  ? " 


ANOTHER  HUNT,  AND  HOW  IT  ENDED.     211 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

ANOTHER  HUNT,  AND   HOW  IT   ENDED. 

JACK  had  one  day  been  surveying  a  piece  of  land 
a  few  miles  east  of  Long  Woods.  It  was  not  very 
late  in  the  afternoon  when  he  finished  his  work ;  and 
he  found  that,  by  going  a  little  out  of  his  way  and 
driving  rather  fast,  he  could,  before  night,  make 
Vinnie  and  her  friends  a  call,  and  perhaps  give  Mrs. 
Wiggett  the  promised  noon-mark  on  her  kitchen 
floor. 

Leaving  in  due  time  the  more  travelled  thorough 
fare,  he  turned  off  upon  the  neighborhood  road,  which 
he  knew  passed  through  the  woods  and  struck  the 
river  road  near  Betterson's  house.  Away  on  his  left 
lay  the  rolling  prairie,  over  a  crest  of  which  he,  on  a 
memorable  occasion,  saw  Snowfoot  disappear  with 
his  strange  rider ;  and  he  was  fast  approaching  the 
scene  of  his  famous  deer-hunt. 

Jack  had  his  gun  with  him ;  and,  though  he  did 
not  stop  to  give  much  attention  to  the  prairie  hens 
which  now  and  then  ran  skulkingly  across  the  track, 
or  flew  up  from  beside  his  buggy-wheels,  he  could 
not  help  looking  for  larger  game. 

"  I  'd  like  to  see  another  doe  and  fawn  feeding  off 
on  the  prairie  there,"  thought  he.  "  Wonder  if  I 


212  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

could  find  some  obliging  young  man  to  drive  them 
in!" 

He  whipped  up  Snowfoot,  and  presently,  riding 
over  a  swell  of  land,  discovered  a  stranger  walking  on 
before  him  in  the  road. 

"No  deer  or  fawn,"  thought  he;  "but  there  's 
possibly  an  obliging  young  man." 

As  he  drove  on,  fast  overtaking  the  pedestrian, 
Jack  was  very  much  struck  by  his  appearance.  He 
was  a  slender  person ;  he  walked  at  a  loitering  pace ; 
and  he  carried  his  coat  on  his  arm.  There  was  some 
thing  also  in  the  jaunty  carriage  of  the  head,  and  in 
the  easy  slouch  of  the  hat-brim,  which  startled  Jack. 

"  I  vow,  it  's  my  obliging  young  man  himself ! " 
he  muttered  through  his  teeth,  —  "or  a  vision  of 
him ! " 

Just  then  the  stranger,  hearing  the  sound  of  wheels, 
cast  a  quick  glance  over  his  shoulder.  It  was  the 
same  face,  and  Jack  could  almost  have  taken  his  oath 
to  the  quid  in  the  cheek. 

He  was  greatly  astonished  and  excited.  It  seemed 
more  like  a  dream  than  anything  else,  that  he  should 
again  meet  with  the  person  who  had  given  him  so 
much  trouble,  so  near  the  place  where  he  had  seen 
him  first,  in  precisely  similar  hat  and  soiled  shirt 
sleeves,  and  carrying  (to  all  appearances)  the  same 
coat  on  his  arm ! 

The  stranger  gave  no  sign  of  the  recognition  being 
mutual,  but  stepped  off  upon  the  roadside  to  let  the 
buggy  pass. 


ANOTHER  HUNT,  AND   HOW  IT  ENDED.  213 

"  How  are  you  ? "  said  Jack,  coming  up  to  him, 
and  drawing  rein ;  while  Lion  snuffed  suspiciously  at 
the  rogue's  heels. 

"  All  right,  stranger ;  how  are  you  yourself  ? "  And 
a  pair  of  reckless  dark  eyes  flashed  saucily  up  at 
Jack. 

"  Better  than  I  was  that  night  after  you  ran  off 
with  my  horse  ! "  Jack  replied. 

"  Glad  you  're  improving.  Wife  on  the  mending 
hand  ?  And  how  are  the  little  daisies  ?  Which  is 
the  road  to  Halleluia  Corners  ?  I  branch  off  here  ; 
good  day,  fair  stranger." 

These  words  were  rattled  off  with  great  volubility, 
which  seemed  all  the  greater  because  of  their  surpris 
ing  irrelevancy  ;  while  the  head,  thrown  gayly  to  one 
side,  balanced  the  quid  in  the  bulged  cheek. 

Before  Jack  could  answer,  the  youth  with  a  wild 
laugh  struck  off  from  the  road,  and  began  to  walk 
fast  toward  the  woodland.  Jack  called  after  him,  — 

"  Hold  on  !     I  want  to  speak  with  you  !  " 

"  Speak  quick,  then ;  I  'm  bound  for  the  Kingdom, 
—  will  you  go  to  glory  with  me  ? "  the  rogue  shouted 
back  over  his  shoulder,  with  a  defiant  grin,  never 
slacking  his  pace. 

Jack  gave  Snowfoot  a  touch  of  the  whip,  reined 
out  of  the  track,  and  drove  after  him. 

The  fellow  at  the  same  time  quickened  his  step  to 
a  run,  and  before  he  could  be  overtaken  he  had  come 
to  rough  ground,  where  fast  driving  was  dangerous. 

Jack  pulled  up  unwillingly,  revolving  rapidly  in. 


214  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

his  mind  what  he  should  do.  Though  he  had  re 
covered  his  horse,  he  felt  the  strongest  desire  to  have 
the  thief  taken  and  punished.  Moreover,  he  had 
lately  seen  the  truckman  to  whom  the  stolen  animal 
was  sold,  and  had  promised  to  do  what  he  could  to 
help  him  obtain  justice. 

He  might  have  levelled  his  gun  and  threatened  to 
shoot  the  fugitive  ;  but  he  would  not  have  felt  justi 
fied  in  carrying  out  such  a  threat,  and  recent  experi 
ence  had  disgusted  him  with  the  shooting  business. 

He  would  have  jumped  from  the  wagon,  and  fol 
lowed  on  foot ;  but,  though  a  good  runner,  he  was 
convinced  that  his  heels  were  no  match  for  the 
stranger's.  There  was  then  but  one  thing  to  do. 

"  Stop,  or  I  11  let  the  dog  take  you  ! "  Jack  yelled. 

For  reply,  the  fugitive  threw  up  his  hand  over  his 
shoulder,  with  fingers  spread  and  thumb  pointing  to 
ward  the  mid-region  of  countenance  occupied  by  the 
nose ;  which  did  not,  however,  take  the  trouble  to 
turn  and  make  itself  visible. 

Lion  was  already  eager  for  the  chase ;  and  Jack 
had  only  to  give  him  a  signal. 

"  Take  care  of  him,  Lion ! "  And  away  sped  the 
dog. 

Fleet  of  foot  as  the  fellow  was,  and  though  he  now 
strained  every  nerve  to  get  away,  the  distance  be 
tween  him  and  the  dog  rapidly  diminished ;  and  a 
hurried  glance  behind  showed  him  the  swift,  black, 
powerful  animal,  coming  with  terrible  bounds,  and 
never  a  bark,  hard  at  his  heels. 


ANOTHER  HUNT,  AND   HOW  IT  ENDED.  215 

The  thickets  were  near,  —  could  he  reach  them 
before  the  dog  reached  him  ?  Would  they  afford  him 
a  refuge  or  a  cudgel  ?  He  threw  out  his  quid,  and 
leaned. 

Jack  drove  after  as  fast  as  he  could,  in  order  to 
prevent  mortal  mischief  when  Lion  should  bring 
down  his  game;  for  the  dog,  when  too  much  in 
earnest  with  a  foe,  had  an  overmastering  instinct  for 
searching  out  the  windpipe  and  jugular  vein. 

The  rogue  had  reached  the  edge  of  the  woods, 
when  he  found  himself  so  closely  pursued  that  he 
seemed  to  have  no  resource  but  to  turn  and  dash  his 
coat  into  the  dog's  face.  That  gave  him  an  instant's 
reprieve;  then  Lion  was  upon  him  again;  and  he 
had  just  time  to  leap  to  the  low  limb  of  a  scraggy 
oak-tree,  and  swing  his  lower  limbs  free  from  the 
ground,  when  the  fierce  eyes  and  red  tongue  were 
upon  the  spot. 

Lion  gave  one  leap,  but  missed  his  mark;  the 
trap-like  jaws  snapping  together  with  a  sound  which 
could  not  have  been  very  agreeable  to  the  youth 
whose  dangling  legs  had  been  actually  grazed  by  the 
passing  muzzle. 

With  a  wistful,  whining  yelp,  Lion  gave  another 
upward  spring ;  and  this  time  his  fangs  closed  upon 
something  —  only  cloth,  fortunately;  but  as  the 
thief  clambered  up  out  of  their  range,  it  was  with 
a  very  good  chance  for  a  future  patch  upon  the  leg 
of  his  trousers. 

Leaping  from  his  wagon,  Jack  rushed  to  the  tree, 


216 


THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 


and  found  his  obliging  young  man  perched  comfort 
ably  in  it,  with  one  leg  over  a  limb ;   while  Lion, 


THE  END   OF   THE  CHASE. 


below,  made  up  for  his  long  silence  by  uttering  fran 
tic  barks. 

"  What  are  you  up  there  for  ? "  said  Jack. 


ANOTHER  HUNT,  AND  HOW  IT  ENDED.  217 

"  To  take  an  observation,"  the  fellow  replied,  out 
of  breath,  but  still  cheerful.  "  First-rate  view  of  the 
country  up  here.  I  fancy  I  see  a  doe  and  a  fawn 
off  on  the  prairie ;  would  n't  you  like  a  shot  at 
'em  ? " 

"  I  Ve  other  game  to  look  after  just  now ! "  Jack 
replied. 

"  Better  look  out  for  your  horse ;  he 's  running 
away ! " 

"  My  horse  is  n't  in  the  habit  of  running  away 
without  help.  Will  you  come  down?" 

"  I  was  just  going  to  invite  you  to  come  up.  I  '11 
share  my  lodgings  with  you,  —  give  you  an  upper 
berth.  A  very  good  tavern ;  rooms  airy,  fine  pros 
pect  ;  though  the  table  don't  seern  to  be  very  well 
supplied,  and  I  can't  say  I  fancy  the  entrance.  '  Sich 
gittin'  up  stairs  I  never  did  see  ! ' " 

Jack  checked  this  flow  of  nonsense  by  shouting, 
"Will  you  come  down,  or  not?" 

"  Suppose  not  ? "   said  the  fellow. 

"  Then  I  leave  the  dog  to  guard  the  door  of  your 
tavern,  and  go  for  a  warrant  and  a  constable,  to  bring 
you  down." 

"  What  would  you  have  me  come  down  for  ?  You 
seem  to  be  very  pressing  in  your  attentions  to  a 
stranger ! " 

"  Don't  say  stranger,  —  you  who  drove  the  deer  in 
for  me  !  I  am  anxious  to  pay  you  for  that  kindness. 
I  want  you  to  ride  with  me." 

"  Why  did  n't  you  say  so  before  ? "  cried  the  rogue, 
10 


218  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

rolling  a  fresh  quid  in  his  cheek.  "I  always  ride 
when  you  ask  me  to,  don't  I  ?  Say,  did  you  ever 
know  me  to  refuse  when  you  offered  me  a  ride  ? 
Which  way  are  you  going  ? " 

"  Down  through  the  woods,"  said  Jack,  amused,  in 
spite  of  himself,  at  the  scamp's  reckless  gayety. 

"  Why,  that 's  just  the  way  I  am  going !  Why 
did  n't  you  mention  it  ?  I  never  should  have  put  up 
at  this  tavern  if  I  had  thought  a  friend  would  come 
along  and  give  me  a  lift  in  his  carriage.  Please  re 
lieve  the  guard,  and  I'll  descend." 

The  dog  was  driven  off,  and  the  youth  dropped 
from  the  branches  to  the  ground. 

"Pick  up  your  coat,"  said  Jack,  "and  do  pretty 
much  as  I  tell  you  now,  or  there  '11  be  trouble. 
None  of  your  tricks  this  time  ! " 

He  held  the  reins  and  the  gun  while  he  made  the 
fellow  get  into  the  buggy ;  then  took  his  seat,  with 
the  prisoner  on  his  left  and  the  gun  on  his  right, 
drove  on  to  the  travelled  track,  and  turned  into  the 
woods ;  the  vigilant  Lion  walking  close  by  the 
wheel 


JACK'S  PRISONER.  219 


CHAPTEE   XXX. 

JACK'S  PRISONER. 

FOR  a  second  time  Jack  now  travelled  that  wood* 
land  road  under  odd  circumstances ;  the  first  occasion 
being  that  on  which  he  himself  had  pulled  in  the 
shafts,  while  Link  pushed  behind.  He  laughed  as 
he  thought  of  that  adventure,  of  which  the  present 
seemed  a  fitting  sequel.  Before,  he  had  been  obliged 
to  go  home  without  his  horse;  what  a  triumph  it 
would  now  be  to  carry  home  the  thief!  But  to  do 
this,  great  care  and  vigilance  would  be  necessary; 
and  he  calculated  all  the  chances,  and  resolved  just 
what  he  would  do,  should  his  captive  attempt  to 
escape.  The  rogue,  on  the  contrary,  appeared  con 
tented  with  his  lot. 

"  Young  man,"  said  he,  "  I  can't  call  your  name, 
but  let  me  say  you  improve  upon  acquaintance. 
This  is  galorious !  better  by  a  long  chalk  than  a 
horseback  gallop  without  a  saddle.  I  suppose  you 
will  call  for  me  with  a  barouche  next  time  ! " 

"  At  all  events,  I  may  help  you  to  free  lodgings,  — 
not  up  in  a  tree,  either ! "  Jack  said,  as  he  touched 
up  Snowfoot. 

He  had,  of  course,  abandoned  the  idea  of  giving 
Mrs.  Wiggett  her  noon-mark  that  day.  But  he  could 


220  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

not  think  of  passing  the  "castle"  without  stopping 
at  the  door. 

"  What  will  Vinnie  say  ? "  thought  he,  with  a 
thrill  of  anticipation.  And  it  must  be  confessed  that 
he  felt  no  little  pride  at  the  prospect  of  showing  his 
prisoner  to  Lord  Betterson  and  the  boys. 

Descending  the  long  declivity,  the  fellow  was 
strangely  silent,  for  one  so  rattle-brained,  until  the 
"castle"  appeared  in  sight  through  an  opening  of 
the  woods.  "  He  's  plotting  mischief,"  Jack  thought. 
And  when  suddenly  the  rogue  made  a  movement  with 
his  arms,  Jack  started,  ready  for  a  grapple. 

"  Don't  be  excited ;  I  'm  only  putting  on  my  coat." 

"  All  right,"  said  Jack ;  and  the  garment  was  put 
on.  "  Anything  else  I  can  do  for  you  ? " 

"  I  'm  dying  with  thirst ;  they  had  nothing  to 
drink  at  that  tavern  where  you  found  me." 

"May  be  we  can  get  some  water  at  this  house," 
Jack  said. 

"  Are  you  acquainted  here  ? "  the  prisoner  in 
quired,  with  a  curious,  sober  face. 

"Yes,  well  enough  to  ask  for  a  glass  of  wrater." 
And  Jack  drove  into  the  yard. 

The  rogue  kept  on  his  sober  face,  but  seemed  to  be 
laughing  prodigiously  inside. 

As  Jack  reined  up  to  the  door,  Lill  came  out, 
clapped  her  hands  with  sudden  surprise,  and  screamed, 
"  0  mother ! "  Then  Vinnie  appeared,  her  face  ra 
diant  on  seeing  Jack,  but  changing  suddenly  at  sight 
of  his  companion.  Mrs.  Betterson  followed,  and, 


JACK'S  PRISONER.  221 

perceiving  the  faces  in  the  buggy,  uttered  a  cry,  tot 
tered,  and  clung  to  Vinnie's  shoulder. 

Link  at  the  same  time  ran  out  from  behind  the 
house,  dropped  a  dirty  stick,  wiped  his  hands  on  his 
trousers,  and  shouted,  "  Hullo  !  by  sixty !  ye  don't 
say  so ! "  while  Rufe  and  Wad  came  rushing  up  from 
the  barn.  Jack  had  rather  expected  to  produce  a 
sensation,  —  not,  however,  until  he  should  fairly  have 
shown  his  prisoner ;  and  this  premature  commotion 
puzzled  him. 

The  rogue's  suppressed  laughter  was  now  bubbling 
freely ;  a  frothy  and  reckless  sort  of  mirth,  without 
much  body  of  joy  to  it. 

"  How  are  ye  all  ? "  he  cried.  "  Don't  faint  at 
sight  of  me,  Aunt  Carrie.  This  is  an  unexpected 
pleasure!"  and  he  bowed  gayly  to  Vinnie. 

"  0  Eadcliff !  you  again  ?  and  in  this  style  ! "  said 
poor  Caroline.  "  Where  did  you  come  from  ?  " 

"  From  up  a  tree,  at  last  accounts.  Hullo,  boys ! 
I  'd  come  down  on  my  trotters,  and  hug  you  all 
round,  but  my  friend  here  would  be  jealous." 

Jack  was  confounded. 

"  Is  this  your  Cousin  Ead  ? "  he  cried,  as  the  boys 
crowded  near.  "  I  'm  sorry  to  know  it,  for  he  's  the 
fellow  who  ran  off  with  my  horse.  Where  did  you 
ever  see  him  before,  Vinnie  ? " 

"He  is  the  one  I  told  you  about,  —  in  Chicago," 
said  Viunie,  astonished  to  find  her  waggish  acquaint 
ance,  the  elegant  Radcliff  Betterson,  and  this  captive 
vagabond,  the  same  person. 


222  THE  YOUNG   SURVEYOR. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

RADCLIFF. 

LORD  BETTERSON  now  came  out  of  the  house,  calm 
and  stately,  but  with  something  of  the  look  in  his 
eye,  as  he  turned  it  upon  his  nephew,  which  Jack 
had  observed  when  it  menaced  Peakslow  at  the  gap 
of  the  fence. 

"Ah,  Radcliff!  you  have  returned?  Why  don't 
you  alight?"  And  he  touched  his  hat  to  Jack 

"  Your  nephew  may  tell  you  the  reason,  if  he  will," 
Jack  replied. 

"The  long  and  the  short  of  it  is  this,"  said  Rad 
cliff,  betraying  a  good  deal  of  trouble,  under  all  his 
assumed  carelessness :  "  When  I  was  on  my  way 
home,  a  few  weeks  ago,  this  young  man  asked  me 
to  drive  in  some  deer  for  him.  He  gave  me  his 
horse  to  ride.  I  made  a  mistake,  and  rode  him  too 
far." 

"You,  Radcliff!"  said  Lord  Betterson,  sternly; 
while  Mrs.  Betterson  went  into  hysterics  on  Vinnie's 
shoulder,  and  was  taken  into  the  house. 

"We  thought  of  Rad  when  you  described  him," 
Rufe  said  to  Jack.  "  But  we  could  n't  believe  he 
would  do  such  a  thing." 

"  'T  was  the  most  natural  thing  in  the  world,"  Rad 


JACK   AND   HIS   JOLLY   PRISONER  —  Pas 


EADCLIFF.  223 

explained.  "  I  was  coming  home  because  I  was  hard 
up.  I  did  n't  steal  the  horse,  —  he  was  put  into  my 
hands ;  it  was  a  breach  of  trust,  that 's  all  you  can 
make  of  it.  Necessity  compelled  me  to  dispose  of 
him.  With  money  in  my  pocket,  what  was  the  use 
of  my  coming  home  ?  I  took  my  clothes  out  of 
pawn,  and  was  once  more  a  gentleman.  Money  all 
gone,  I  spouted  my  clothes  again,  —  fell  back  upon 
this  inexpensive  rig,  —  took  to  the  country,  remem 
bered  I  had  a  home,  and  was  making  for  it,  when 
this  young  man  overtook  me  just  now,  and  gave  me 
a  seat  in  his  buggy." 

"The  matter  appears  serious,"  said  Lord  Betterson. 
"  Am  I  to  understand  that  you  have  taken  my 
nephew  prisoner  ? " 

"He  can  answer  that  question,"  said  Jack. 

"  Well,  I  suppose  that  is  the  plain  English  of  it," 
replied  Eadcliff.  "  Come,  now,  Uncle  Lord !  this 
ain't  the  first  scrape  you  've  got  me  out  of ;  fix  it  up 
with  him,  can't  you  ? " 

"  It  is  my  duty  to  save  the  honor  of  the  name ; 
but  you  are  bent  on  destroying  it.  Will  you  please 
to  come  into  the  house  with  my  nephew,  and  oblige 
me?"  Betterson  said  to  Jack. 

"Certainly,  if  you  wish  it,"  Jack  replied.  "Get 
down,  Eadcliff.  Be  quiet,  Lion !  I  was  never  in  so 
hard  a  place  in  my  life,"  he  said  to  the  boys,  as  they 
followed  Had  and  his  uncle  into  the  house.  "I 
never  dreamed  of  his  being  your  cousin ! " 

"He's  a  wild  fellow,  —  nothing  very  bad  about 


224  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

him,  only  he 's  just  full  of  the  Old  Harry,"  said  Rufe. 
"  I  guess  father  '11  settle  it,  somehow." 

Meanwhile,  Mrs.  Betterson  had  retired  to  her 
room,  where  Vinnie  was  engaged,  with  fan  and  harts 
horn,  in  restoring —  not  her  consciousness,  for  that 
she  had  not  lost,  but  her  equanimity. 

"Lavinia!"  she  said  brokenly,  at  intervals,  "La- 
vinia  dear!  don't  think  I  intended  to  deceive  you. 
It  was,  perhaps,  too  much  the  ideal  Eadcliff  I  de 
scribed  to  you,  —  the  Betterson  Eadcliff,  the  better 
Betterson  Radcliff,  if  I  may  so  speak ;  for  he  is,  after 
all,  you  know,  a  —  but  that  is  the  agony  of  it ! 
The  name  is  disgraced  forever!  Fan  me,  Lavinia 
dear ! " 

"  I  don't  see  how  the  act  of  one  person  should  dis 
grace  anybody  else,  even  of  the  same  name,"  Vinnie 
replied. 

"  But  —  a  Betterson  !  "  groaned  Caroline.  "  My 
husband's  nephew !  Brought  back  here  like  a  rep 
robate  !  The  hartshorn,  Lavinia  dear  ! " 

Hard  as  it  was  freely  to  forgive  her  sister  for  hold 
ing  up  to  her  so  exclusively  the  "  ideal  Radcliff "  in 
her  conversations,  Vinnie  continued  to  apply  the  fan 
and  hartshorn,  with  comforting  words,  until  Link 
came  in  and  said  that  Jack  wished  her  to  be  present 
in  the  other  room. 

"  Don't  leave  me,  Lavinia  dear ! "  said  Caroline, 
feeling  herself  utterly  helpless  without  Vinnie's  sup 
port. 

"  If  we  open  this  door  between  the  rooms,  and  you 


RADCLIFF.  225 

sit  near  it,  while  I  remain  by  you,  —  perhaps  that 
will  be  the  best  way,"  said  Vinnie. 

The  door  was  opened,  showing  Jack  and  Ead  and 
Mr.  Betterson  seated,  and  the  boys  standing  by  the 
outer  door.  Ead  was  trying  hard  to  keep  up  his 
appearance  of  gay  spirits,  chucking  Chokie  under  the 
chin,  and  winking  playfully  at  Eufe  and  Wad.  But 
Jack  and  Lord  were  serious. 

"  I  have  reasons  for  wanting  you  to  hear  this  talk, 
Vinnie,"  said  Jack.  "  I  was  just  telling  Mr.  Better- 
son  that  you  had  met  his  nephew  before,  and  he  was 
quite  surprised.  It  seems  to  me  singular  that  you 
never  told  your  friends  here  of  that  adventure." 

"I  suppose  I  know  what  you  mean,"  spoke  up 
Caroline.  "  And  I  confess  that  /am  at  fault.  Lavinia 
dear  did  tell  me  and  the  girls  of  a  young  man  beguil 
ing  her  to  a  public-house  in  Chicago,  and  offering 
her  wine ;  and  Cecie  whispered  to  me  that  she  was 
sure  it  must  have  been  Eadcliff ;  but  I  could  n't,  I 
would  n't  believe  a  Betterson  could  be  guilty  of  — 
Fan  me,  Lavinia  dear  !  " 

Vinnie  fanned,  and  Caroline  went  on, — 

"  'T  was  I  who  cautioned  the  children  against  say 
ing  anything  disparaging  of  Eadcliff's  character  in 
Lavinia  dear's  presence.  I  had  such  faith  in  the 
stock  !  and  now  to  think  how  I  have  been  deluded ! 
The  hartshorn,  Lavinia  dear ! " 

"  Seems  to  me  you  make  a  pile  of  talk  about 
trifles ! "  Eadcliff  said  with  a  sneer.  "  I  owe  an 
apology  to  this  young  lady.  But  she  knows  I  meant 
10*  o 


226  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

no  harm,  —  only  my  foolish  fun.  As  for  the  horse, 
the  owner  has  got  him  again  ;  and  so  I  don't  see  but 
it 's  all  right." 

"  It 's  all  right  enough,  as  far  as  I  am  concerned," 
said  Jack.  "  I  won't  say  a  word  about  the  trouble 
and  expense  you  put  me  to.  But,  whether  taking 
my  horse  as  you  did  was  stealing  or  not,  you  sold 
him,  you  obtained  money  under  false  pretences,  you 
swindled  an  honest  man." 

"Well,  that  can't  be  helped  now,"  said  Radcliff, 
with  a  scoffing  laugh.  "A  feller  is  obliged  some 
times  to  do  things  that  may  not  be  exactly  on  the 
square." 

"I  don't  know  about  anybody's  being  obliged  to  go 
off  and  play  the  gentleman  (if  that 's  what  you  call 
it),  and  have  a  good  time  (if  there 's  any  good  in  such 
a  time),  at  somebody  else's  expense.  I  call  such 
conduct  simply  scoundrelism,"  said  Jack,  his  strong 
feeling  on  the  subject  breaking  forth  in  plain  speech 
and  ringing  tones.  "And  I  determined,  if  I  ever 
caught  you,  to  have  you  punished." 

"  O,  well !  go  ahead !  put  it  through  !  indulge  ! " 
said  Radcliff,  folding  his  arms,  and  stretching  out  his 
legs  with  an  air  of  easy  and  reckless  insolence,  but 
suddenly  drawing  up  one  of  them,  as  he  noticed  the 
tear  Lion's  teeth  had  made.  "  Guess  I  can  stand  it 
if  the  others  can.  What  do  you  say,  Uncle  Lord  ? 
Give  me  up  as  a  bad  job,  eh  ? " 

"  Hem  ! "  Lord  coughed,  and  nibbed  his  chin  with 
his  palm.  "  If  this  sort  of  conduct  is  to  continue, 


RADCLIFF.  227 

the  crisis  may  as  well  come  now,  I  suppose,  as  later ; 
and,  unless  you  give  a  solemn  pledge  to  alter  your 
course,  I  shall  let  it  come." 

"  0,  I  '11  give  the  solem'est  sort  of  a  pledge ! "  Kad- 
cliff  replied. 

"  You  will  notice  —  ahem !  —  a  change  in  our  fam 
ily,"  Lord  went  on.  "  The  boys  have  applied  them 
selves  to  business,  —  in  plain  terms,  gone  to  work. 
Although  I  have  said  little  on  the  subject,  I  have 
silently  observed,  and  I  am  free  to  confess  that  I 
have  been  gratified.  Since  our  circumstances  are 
what  they  are,  they  have  done  well,  —  I  may  add, 
they  have  done  nobly." 

"  Fan  me,  Lavinia  dear ! "  whispered  Caroline. 

"  Hey,  boys  ?  what 's  got  into  you  ? "  said  Kadcliff, 
really  astonished. 

Lord  put  up  his  hand,  to  prevent  the  boys  from 
answering,  and  continued, — 

"Your  unusually  long  absence,  I  am  persuaded, 
has  had  a  wholesome  effect.  But  to  the  presence  of 
new  elements  in  the  family  I  attribute  the  better 
state  of  things,  in  a  large  measure."  Lord  indicated 
Lavinia,  by  a  gracious  wave  of  the  hand,  adding, 
"  Though  a  man  of  few  words,  I  am  not  blind,  and  I 
am  not  ungrateful." 

This  recognition  of  her  influence,  before  Jack  and 
the  whole  family,  brought  the  quick  color  to  Vinnie's 
cheeks  and  tears  to  her  eyes.  She  was  surprised  by 
what  Lord  said,  and  still  more  surprised  that  any 
words  of  his  could  touch  her  so.  He  had  hitherto 


228  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

treated  her  with  civil,  quiet  reserve,  and  she  had 
never  been  able  to  divine  his  secret  thought  of  her. 
Nor  had  she  cared  much,  at  first,  what  that  might 
be ;  but  day  by  day  she  had  learned  to  know  that 
under  all  his  weaknesses  there  was  something  in  his 
character  worthy  of  her  esteem. 

"If  you  choose  to  fall  into  the  new  course  of 
things,  Kadcliff,  you  will  be  welcome  here,  as  you 
always  have  been.  Not  otherwise." 

And  again  Jack  was  reminded  of  the  look  and 
tone  with  which  he  had  seen  Lord  Betterson  con 
front  Peakslow  at  the  gap  of  the  fence. 

"  Of  course  I  '11  fall  in,  head  over  heels,"  said  Rad- 
cliff,  with  a  laugh,  and  a  look  at  Vinnie,  which  Jack 
did  not  like.  "I  think  I  shall  fancy  the  new  ele 
ments,  as  you  call  'em." 

Jack  started  up,  with  sparkling  eyes ;  but,  on  an 
instant's  reflection,  bridled  his  tongue,  and  settled 
down  again,  merely  giving  Vinnie  a  swift  glance, 
which  seemed  to  say,  "  If  he  has  any  more  of  his 
fun  with  you,  I  '11  — 

"  No  more  trifling,"  said  Betterson.  "  If  you  stay, 
you  will  come  under  the  new  regime.  That  means, 
in  plain  speech  —  work;  we  all  work." 

"  Oh ! "  gasped  poor  Caroline,  and  reached  out 
helplessly  to  her  sister.  "The  hartshorn,  Lavinia 
dear!" 

"  I  '11  stay,  and  I  '11  work,  —  I  '11  do  as  the  rest  do," 
said  Radcliff.  "  But  when  the  Philadelphia  partners 
pony  up,  of  course  I  have  my  dividend." 


RADCLIFF.  229 

"  A  word  here,"  said  Lord,  "  is  due  to  our  friends. 
By  the  Philadelphia  partners,  my  nephew  means  the 
relatives  who  occasionally  send  us  money.  Now,  as 
to  his  dividend :  when  he  came  into  our  family,  it 
was  with  the  understanding  that  he  would  be  clothed 
and  educated  at  the  expense  of  those  connections. 
Accordingly,  when  money  has  been  sent  to  me,  a 
portion  has  always  gone  to  him.  As  soon  as  he  gets 
money,  it  burns  him  till  he  goes  off  and  squanders  it. 
When  it  is  gone,  he  comes  home  here,  and  waits  for 
another  supply." 

Then  Jack  spoke  up. 

"  I  say,  when  the  next  supply  comes,  eighty  dol 
lars  of  it  —  if  there 's  as  much  —  should  be  paid  over 
to  that  truckman  he  swindled.  I  insist  upon  that." 

Eadcliff  snapped  his  fingers.  "  That 's  a  foolish 
way  of  doing  business ! " 

"Foolish  or  not,"  cried  Jack,  "you  shall  agree 
to  it." 

"You  have  anticipated  me,"  remarked  Betterson, 
with  a  high  courtesy  contrasting  with  Jack's  haste 
and  heat.  "  I  was  about  to  propose  a  similar  arrange 
ment.  Radcliff's  money  passes  through  my  hands. 
I  will  see  to  it,  —  the  truckman  shall  be  paid.  Do 
you  agree,  Eadcliff?  If  not,  I  have  nothing  more  to 
urge." 

"  Of  course  I  agree,  since  I  can't  help  myself.  But 
next  time  I  have  a  horse  to  dispose  of,"  Radcliff 
added  with  a  derisive  smile  at  Jack,  "  I  shall  go  far 
ther.  So  take  care ! " 


230  THE  YOUNG   SURVEYOR. 

"  No  need  of  giving  me  that  warning,"  Jack  made 
answer,  rising  to  his  feet.  He  went  over  and  stood 
by  Vinnie,  and  looked  back  with  strong  distrust  upon 
the  jeering  Badcliff.  "  I  don't  know  that  I  do  right, 
Mr.  Betterson ;  but  I  '11  leave  him  here,  if  you 
say  so." 

"I  think  it  best,  on  the  whole,"  Mr.  Betterson 
replied. 

"  O,  bosh  ! "  cried  Radcliff,  giving  Jack  a  sinister 
look.  "  You  and  I  '11  be  better  acquainted,  some 
day !  Come,  boys,  show  me  what  you  've  been  about 
lately.  And,  see  here,  Bufe,  —  haven't  I  got  a  pair 
of  pants  about  the  house  somewhere  ?  See  how  that 
dog  tore  my  trousers-leg  !  1 11  pay  him  my  compli 
ments,  too,  some  time!" 

As  he  was  walking  out  of  the  house,  Lion  at  the 
door  gave  a  growl.  Jack  silenced  the  dog,  and  then 
took  leave.  Vinnie  urged  him  to  stay  to  supper. 

"  It  will  be  ready  in  five  minutes,"  she  said ;  "  I 
was  just  going  to  set  the  table  when  you  came." 

But  Jack  replied,  with  a  bitter  smile,  that  he  be 
lieved  his  appetite  would  be  better  after  a  ride  of  a 
few  miles  in  the  open  air. 

"  Look  out  for  the  scamp ! "  he  whispered  in  her 
ear ;  and  then,  with  brief  good-byes  to  the  rest,  he 
sprang  into  the  buggy,  called  Lion  to  a  seat  by  his 
side,  and  drove  away. 


AN   IMPORTANT  EVENT.  231 


CHAPTEE  XXXII. 

AN  IMPORTANT  EVENT. 

EADCLIFF  resumed  his  place  in  the  family.  But 
he  soon  found  that  his  relations  to  it  were  no  longer 
what  they  had  been  before  the  days  of  Vinnie  and 
Jack. 

The  "new  elements"  had  produced  a  greater 
change  than  he  supposed.  He  no  longer  possessed 
the  boundless  influence  over  the  boys  which  his  wild 
spirits  formerly  gave  him.  They  saw  him  in  the 
light  of  this  last  revelation  of  his  character,  and  con 
trasted  his  coarse  foolery,  once  so  attractive,  with  the 
gentle  manners  and  cheerful  earnestness  of  Vinnie 
and  Jack;  in  which  comparison  this  flower  of  the 
Betterson  stock  suffered  blight. 

The  boys  did  not  take  a  holiday  in  honor  of  Ead's 
return,  but  went  steadily  on  with  their  tasks.  Lord 
Betterson  himself  seemed  suddenly  to  have  changed 
his  views  of  things,  for  he  now  offered  to  assist  the 
boys  in  repairing  the  fences,  for  which  they  had 
been  cutting  poles  in  the  woods. 

Ead  worked  a  little,  but,  seeing  how  things  were 
going,  sulked  a  good  deal  more.  He  tried  to  be  very 
gallant  toward  Vinnie,  but  her  quiet  dignity  of  man 
ner  was  proof  against  all  his  pleasantries.  Even 


232  THE  YOUNG   SURVEYOR. 

Cecie  and  Lill  could  not  somehow  enjoy  his  jests  as 
they  used  to ;  and  Caroline  —  there  was  no  disguis 
ing  the  fact  —  had  ceased  to  view  his  faults  through 
the  golden  haze  of  a  sentimental  fancy. 

So  Radcliff  found  himself  out  of  place,  unappre 
ciated  ;  and  discontent  filled  his  soul.  At  length  an 
event  occurred  which  blew  his  smouldering  restless 
ness  into  a  flame. 

The  "Philadelphia  partners"  were  heard  from. 

Rufe  and  Wad,  who  had  been  over  to  the  Mills 
one  day,  completing  their  arrangements  with  the 
pump-maker  for  boring  the  logs  of  their  aqueduct, 
brought  home  from  the  mail  one  of  those  envelopes 
whose  post-mark  and  superscription  always  glad 
dened  the  eyes  of  the  Bettersons. 

It  was  from  Philadelphia,  and  it  contained  a  draft 
for  two  hundred  and  fifty  dollars. 

One  third  of  this  sum  was  for  Radcliff's  "  benefit." 

It  would  have  been  wise,  perhaps,  to  keep  from 
him  the  knowledge  of  this  fact;  but  it  would  have 
been  impossible. 

"A  pittance,  a  mere  pittance,"  said  Lord,  holding 
the  precious  bit  of  paper  up  to  the  light.  "  Uncle 
George  could  just  as  well  have  made  it  a  thousand, 
without  feeling  it.  However,  small  favors  gratefully 
received."  And  he  placed  the  draft  in  his  pocket- 
book  with  calm  satisfaction. 

Joy  overflowed  the  family;  Caroline  began  to 
build  fresh  castles  in  the  air ;  and  Vinnie  heard  Ead- 
cliff  say  to  the  boys,  — 


AN  IMPORTANT  EVENT.  233 

"  You  can  afford  to  lay  by  now,  and  have  a  good 
time,  with  that  money." 

"  Radcliff  Betterson  ! "  cried  Vinnie,  "  you  provoke 
me!" 

"  How  so,  my  charmer  ? "  said  Ead,  bowing  and 
smiling  saucily. 

"With  your  foolish  talk.  But  I  hope  —  yes,  I 
know  —  the  boys  will  pay  no  attention  to  it.  To 
stop  work  now,  and  go  and  play,  just  because  a  little 
money  has  come  into  the  house,  —  I  should  lose  all 
my  respect  for  them,  if  they  were  to  do  so  silly  a 
thing." 

"Well,  I  was  only  joking,"  said  Ead. 

"We  could  very  well  spare  some  of  your  jokes," 
Vinnie  replied. 

"And  me  too,  I  suppose  you  think?" 

"  You  might  be  more  useful  to  yourself  and  others 
than  you  are ;  it  is  easy  to  see  that." 

"  Well,  give  me  a  smile  now  and  then ;  don't  be  so 
cross  with  a  feller,"  said  Ead.  "  You  don't  show  me 
very  much  respect." 

"  It  is  n't  my  fault ;  I  should  be  glad  to  show  you 
more." 

Such  was  about  the  usual  amount  of  satisfaction 
Eadcliff  got  from  his  talk  with  Vinnie.  She  was 
always  "up  to  him,"  as  the  boys  said. 

When  he  walked  off,  and  found  them  laughing  at 
his  discomfiture,  he  laughed  too,  with  a  fresh  quid  in 
his  cheek,  and  his  head  on  one  -side,  but  with  some 
thing  not  altogether  happy  in  his  mirth. 


234  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

"  Uncle  Lord,"  said  he  in  the  evening, "  if  you  '11 
put  your  name  to  that  draft,  1 11  go  over  to  the 
Mills  in  the  morning  and  cash  it  for  you." 

"Thank  you,  Badcliff,"  said  his  uncle.  "I've 
some  bills  to  pay,  and  I  may  as  well  go  myself." 

"  Let  the  bills  slide,  why  don't  you,  and  get  some 
good  out  of  the  money?"  said  Eadcliff.  "And  see 
here,  uncle,  —  what's  the  use  of  paying  off  that 
truckman  in  such  a  hurry  ?  I  want  some  of  that 
money ;  it  was  intended  for  me,  and  I  ain't  going  to 
be  cheated  out  of  it." 

"As  to  that,"  replied  Lord,  "you  entered  into  a 
certain  agreement,  which  seemed  to  me  just ;  and  I 
do  not  like  now  to  hear  you  speak  of  being  cheated, 
—  you,  of  all  persons,  Eadcliff." 

"O,  well,  I  suppose  you'll  do  as  you  like,  since 
you  Ve  got  the  thing  into  your  hands  1"  And  Ead 
cliff  walked  sulkily  out  of  the  house. 

The  next  day  Mr.  Betterson  drove  over  to  the 
Mills,  cashed  the  draft,  made  some  necessary  pur 
chases,  paid  some  bills  which  had  been  long  out 
standing,  and  called  to  hand  Jack  eighty  dollars,  on 
Eadcliff's  account,  for  the  swindled  truckman. 

Jack  was  off  surveying  with  Forrest  Feltou,  and 
was  not  expected  home  for  a  day  or  two.  Mr.  Bet 
terson  hardly  knew  what  to  do  in  that  case,  but 
finally  concluded  to  keep  the  money,  and  leave  Jack 
word  that  he  had  it  for  him. 


MRS.  WIGGETT'S  "  NOON-MARK."  235 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

MRS.  WIGGETT'S  "NOON-MARK." 

JACK  returned  home,  unexpectedly,  that  night. 
He  jumped  for  joy  when  told  of  Mr.  Betterson's  call 
and  the  message  he  had  left.  The  promise  of  money 
due  himself  could  not  have  pleased  him  so  much  as 
the  prospect  now  presented  of  justice  being  done  to 
the  truckman. 

He  felt  some  concern,  it  must  be  owned,  lest  the 
money  should,  after  all,  be  diverted  from  its  course ; 
he  determined,  therefore,  to  act  promptly  in  the 
matter,  and  go  to  Long  Woods  the  next  day. 

He  and  Forrest  were  laying  out  town  lots  some 
where  up  the  river;  and  he  was  closely  occupied 
all  the  next  forenoon  and  a  part  of  the  afternoon 
with  his  calculations  and  drawings. 

At  last  he  leaped  up  gayly,  with  that  sense  of 
satisfaction  and  relief  which  comes  from  the  con 
sciousness  of  work  well  done. 

He  harnessed  Snowfoot,  put  his  compass  into  the 
buggy,  thinking  he  would  give  Mrs.  Wiggett  her 
noon-mark  this  time  without  fail,  winked  assent  at 
Lion,  eager  to  accompany  him,  and  drove  off  with  a 
feeling  of  enjoyment,  to  which  the  thought  of  some 
one  he  was  going  to  meet  gave  a  wonderful  zest. 


236  THE  YOUNG   SURVEYOR. 

As  it  was  getting  late  in  the  day  when  he  reached 
the  settlement,  he  stopped  only  a  moment  at  the 
"castle,"  to  speak  with  Vinnie,  and  leave  word  that 
he  would  call  and  see  Mr.  Betterson  on  his  way 
back;  then  drove  on  to  Mr.  Wiggett's  log-cabin. 

His  reception  there  was  most  cordial,  especially 
when  it  was  found  that  he  had  come  with  his  com 
pass,  prepared  to  make  the  noon-mark. 

"  House  don't  front  no  sort  of  a  way,"  said  the  old 
man ;  "  and  I  reckon  you  '11  have  to  give  us  a  kin' 
of  a  slantin'diclar  line  from  'bout  this  yer  direction," 
indicating  a  wood-pile  by  the  road. 

The  little  Wiggetts  meanwhile  thronged  the  door 
way,  staring  at  Jack  and  his  strange  machine,  and 
their  old  acquaintance,  the  dog. 

"  Cl'ar  the  kitchen,  you  young  uns ! "  the  mother 
stormed  after  them,  cuffing  right  and  left.  "  Noon- 
mark  '11  cut  ye  plumb  in  tew,  'f  ye  don't  scatter ! 
It 's  comin'  into  this  yer  door,  like  it  was  a  bullet 
from  pap's  rifle  ! " 

The  grimy  faces  and  bare  legs  "  scattered  "  ;  while 
Mrs.  Wiggett  called  to  Jack,  — 

"  How  long  'fore  ye  gwine  to  shute  that  ar  thing 
off?  'Low  I  oughter  scoop  up  a  little  fust." 

"  Scoop  up  ? "  Jack  repeated,  not  quite  taking  her 
meaning. 

"  Right  smart  o'  dirt  on  the  floor  yer ;  it  '11  be  in 
your  way,  I  reckon." 

"  Not  at  all,"  said  Jack.  "  My  line  will  cut 
through ;  and  you  can  scoop  down  to  it,  at  your 


MRS.  WIGGETT'S  "NOON-MARK."  237 

leisure.  I  must  get  you  to  remove  these  iron 
wedges,  Mr.  Wiggett ;  the  needle  won't  work  with 
so  much  iron  near." 

The  wedges  removed,  the  needle  settled ;  and 
Jack,  adjusting  the  sights  of  his  compass  to  a  north- 
and-south  line,  got  Mr.  Wiggett  to  mark  its  bear 
ings  for  him,  with  a  chalk  pencil,  on  the  floor  of  the 
open  doorway. 

"  All  creation ! "  shrieked  the  woman,  suddenly 
making  a  pounce  at  the  kneeling  old  man ;  "  we 
don't  want  a  noon-mark  thar,  cl'ar  away  from  the 
jamb,  ye  fool !  We  want  it  whur  the  shadder  o'  the 
jamb  '11  hit  it  plumb  at  noon." 

The  old  man  looked  up  from  his  position  on  "  all- 
fours,"  and  parried  her  attack  with  his  lifted  hand. 

"  Ye  mout  wait  a  minute  ! "  he  said ;  "  then  you  '11 
see  if  me  an'  this  yer  youngster 's  both  fools.  I  had 
a  lesson  that  larnt  me  onct  that  he  knows  better  'n 
I  dew  what  he  's  about ;  an'  I  lowed,  this  time,  I  'd 
go  by  faith,  an'  make  the  marks  'thout  no  remarks 
o'  my  own." 

"  The  line  will  come  just  where  you  want  it,  Mrs. 
Wiggett,"  Jack  assured  her,  hiding  a  laugh  behind 
his  compass. 

Having  got  the  old  man  to  mark  two  points  on 
his  north-and-south  line,  one  at  the  threshold  and 
the  other  a  little  beyond,  Jack  put  his  rule  to  them 
and  drew  a  pencil-line ;  Mrs.  Wiggett  watching  with 
a  jealous  scowl,  not  seeing  that  her  mark  was  coming 
where  she  wanted  it,  — "  right  ag'in  the  jamb," — 
after  all. 


238  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

Then,  by  a  simple  operation,  which  even  she  un 
derstood,  Jack  surprised  her. 

He  first  measured  the  distance  of  his  line  from 
the  jamb.  Then  he  set  off  two  points,  on  the  same 
side,  at  the  same  distance  from  the  line,  farther  along 
on  the  floor.  Then  through  these  points  he  drew  a 
second  line,  parallel  to  the  first,  and  touching  the 
corner  of  the  jamb,  by  which  the  noon  shadow  was 
to  be  cast.  Into  this  new  line  Jack  sank  his  noon- 
mark  with  a  knife. 

"  There,"  said  he,  "  is  a  true  noon-mark,  which  will 
last  as  long  as  your  house  does," — a  prediction 
which,  by  a  very  astonishing  occurrence,  was  to  be 
proved  false  that  very  afternoon. 

"  I  reckon  the  woman  is  satisfied,"  said  the  old 
man;  "anyhow,  I  be;  an'  now  what's  the  tax  for 
this  yer  little  scratch  on  the  floor  ? " 

"  Not  anything,  Mr.  Wiggett." 

"  Hey  ?  ye  make  noon-marks  for  folks  'thout 
pay?" 

"That  depends.  Sometimes,  when  off  surveying, 
I  'm  hailed  at  the  door  of  a  house,  and  asked  for  a 
noon-mark.  I  never  refuse  it.  Then,  if  convenient, 
I  take  my  pay  by  stopping  to  dinner  or  supper.  But 
I  never  accept  money." 

"  Sartin ! "  cried  the  old  man.  "  Yer,  ol'  woman ! " 
(it  must  be  remembered  that  Mrs.  Wiggett  was  forty 
years  younger  than  her  husband),  "fly  round, — 
make  things  hum,  —  git  up  a  supper  as  suddent  as 
ye  kin,  an'  ax  our  friend  yer.  Whur  's  that  Sal  ? " 


MRS.  WIGGETT'S  "NOON-MARK."  239 

Mrs.  Wiggett,  who  had  appeared  all  pride  and 
sunny  smiles  regarding  her  noon-mark  (particularly 
after  hearing  it  was  not  to  be  paid  for),  fell  suddenly 
into  a  stormy  mood,  and  once  more  began  to  cuff  the 
children  right  and  left. 

Jack  hastened  to  relieve  her  mind  by  saying  that 
Mr.  Wiggett  had  quite  mistaken  his  meaning ;  that 
he  had  an  engagement  which  must  deprive  him  of 
the  pleasure  of  taking  supper  witli  her  and  her  in 
teresting  family.  Thereupon  she  brightened  again. 
The  old  man  shook  him  warmly  by  the  hand ;  and 
Jack,  putting  his  compass  into  the  buggy,  drove  back 
up  the  valley  road. 

Vinnie  had  told  him  that  the  Betterson  boys  were 
cutting  logs  for  their  aqueduct ;  and  hearing  the 
sound  of  an  axe  on  his  way  back,  Jack  tied  Snow- 
foot  to  a  sapling  by  the  road,  and  went  up  into  the 
woods  to  find  them. 

"  What !  you  coming  too,  Lion  ? "  he  said,  after  he 
had  gone  several  rods.  "^Did  n't  I  tell  you  to 
watch  ?  Well,  I  believe  I  did  n't.  Never  mind ; 
Snowfoot  is  hitched." 

He  found  Eufe  and  Wad  cutting  trees  with  great 
industry,  having  determined  to  have  the  logs  laid 
from  the  spring  to  the  house  without  delay. 

"  We  Ve  taken  the  farm,  of  father,  as  you  sug 
gested,"  said  Wad.  "  He  is  helping  us  do  the  fall 
ploughing  while  we  get  out  our  logs.  He  and  Link 
are  at  it  with  the  oxen,  over  beyond  the  house,  now." 

"  And  where 's  that  precious  cousin  of  yours  ? " 


240  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

"  I  believe  he  has  gone  to  the  house  to  see  if  sup 
per  is  about  ready,"  said  Eufe.  "  He 's  smart  to 
work,  when  he  does  take  hold,  but  his  interest 
does  n't  hold  out,  and  the  first  we  know,  he  is  off." 

Jack  stopped  and  talked  with  the  boys  about  their 
water-works  for  about  half  an  hour.  Then  Rad  came 
up  through  the  woods,  by  way  of  the  spring,  and 
announced  that  supper  was  ready,  greeting  Jack  with 
a  jeering  laugh. 

"  You  '11  take  tea  with  us,  of  course,"  Rufe  said  to 
Jack. 

"I  suppose  your  father  will  be  at  the  house  by 
this  time ;  I  '11  stop  and  see  him,  at  any  rate,"  was 
Jack's  reply. 

Eufe  went  with  him  down  through  the  woods  to 
where  Snowfoot  was  left  hitched.  As  they  were 
getting  into  the  buggy,  Eufe  noticed  Zeph  Peakslow 
coming  out  of  some  bushes  farther  down  the  road, 
and  going  towards  home. 

"  See  him  slink  off  ? "  said  Eufe.  "  He 's  afraid  of 
me  yet ;  but  he  need  n't  be,  —  I  've  promised  Vinnie 
not  to  meddle  with  him." 

Then,  on  the  way  home,  Eufe  surprised  Jack  by 
telling  him  how  Vinnie  had  made  acquaintance  with 
the  Peakslow  family,  and  how  Mrs.  Peakslow,  taking 
advantage  of  her  husband's  absence  from  home,  had 
called  on  the  Bettersons,  under  pretence  of  returning 
Vinnie's  box  of  salve. 

Mr.  Betterson  had  not  yet  come  to  the  house ;  and 
Jack,  having  hitched  Snowfoot  to  an  oak-tree,  and 


MES.  WIGGETT'S  "  NOON-MARK."  241 

told  of  his  business  with  the  \Viggetts,  asked  Vinnie 
and  her  sister  if  they  would  not  like  a  noon-mark  on 
their  floor.  "  It  will  be  a  good  thing  to  set  your  clock 
by  when  it  goes  wrong,"  he  explained. 

Vinnie  gladly  accepted  the  offer. 

"  And,  0  Jack  ! "  she  said,  "  I  wish  you  would  give 
Mrs.  Peakslow  one  too." 

"  I  would,  certainly,"  said  Jack ;  "  but "  (his  pride 
coming  up)  "  would  n't  it  look  as  if  I  was  anxious  to 
make  my  peace  with  Peakslow  ? " 

"Never  mind  that;  I  think  even  he  will  appre 
ciate  the  kindness.  I  wish  you  would!" 

"I  will  —  to  please  you,"  said  Jack.  "This  after 
noon,  if  I  have  time."  And  he  went  to  the  buggy 
for  his  compass. 

He  fumbled  in  the  blanket  under  the  seat,  looked 
before  and  behind,  and  uttered  an  exclamation. 

"  What  's  the  trouble,  Jack  ? "  Eufe  asked. 

"  It  is  gone !  my  compass  is  gone ! "  said  Jack. 
"Somebody  has  taken  it." 

"  That  Zeph  —  we  saw  him,  you  know ! "  said 
Eufe.  "  It 's  one  of  his  tricks." 

"  I  '11  overhaul  that  Zeph  ! "  said  Jack  ;  "  I  '11 
teach  him  to  play  his  tricks  on  me ! " 

Vinnie  ran  after  him  as  he  was  starting  off. 

"  Jack !  don't  be  hasty  or  unkind ! " 

"  0  no !  I  won't  be  unkind,"  said  Jack,  with  some 
thing  bitter  in  his  laugh.  "  I  just  want  my  compass, 
that 's  all."  And  he  hurried  down  the  road. 

11  p 


242  THE  YOUNG   SURVEYOR 


CHAPTER    XXXIV. 

THE  STRANGE  CLOUD. 

JACK'S  call  on  the  Peakslows  was  brief  and  unsat 
isfactory.  He  returned  to  the  "  castle  "  without  his 
compass,  and  looking  flushed  and  disturbed. 

"  I  did  n't  accuse  Zeph  of  stealing,"  said  Jack,  fear 
ful  of  being  blamed  by  Vinnie.  "  They  were  at  sup 
per;  and  I  just  said,  'Zeph,  my  boy,  what  did  you 
do  with  my  compass  ? '  He  denied  having  touched 
it.  I  explained.  Great  commotion.  Mamma  Peak- 
slow  looked  frightened  out  of  her  wits,  and  papa 
blazed  away  at  me  like  a  seventy-four-gun  ship.  In 
short,  you  will  have  to  wait  for  your  noon-mark,  Mrs. 
Betterson.  So  will  Mrs.  Peakslow.  I  did  n't  tell 
her  I  was  going  to  make  her  one,  if  Zeph  had  n't 
stolen  my  compass." 

"But  you  don't  know  he  stole  it,"  said  Vinnie. 

"  We  don't  know  that  he  and  Dud  put  rubbish  in 
our  spring,"  Eufe  made  answer  for  Jack, "  and  yet  we 
know  it  as  well  as  we  know  anything  we  don't  know." 

"  I  can't  tell  what  I  was  thinking  of,"  said  Jack, 
"to  leave  any  property  of  mine  unguarded,  within 
reach  of  the  Peakslows.  Lion  was  up  in  the  woods 
with  me  before  I  knew  it." 

"  Where  are  you  going  now  ? "   Vinnie  asked. 


THE   STRANGE   CLOUD.  243 

"To  look  for  my  compass  in  the  bushes.  Zeph 
must  have  hid  it  somewhere,  for  he  did  n't  have  it 
when  we  saw  him." 

"  Wait  till  after  supper,  and  I  will  go  with  you," 
said  Kufe.  "Father  is  here  now." 

Mr.  Betterson  was  coming  up  from  the  stable, 
accompanied  by  Radcliff.  Had  had  hastened  to  way 
lay  him,  and  make  a  last  appeal  for  the  money 
which  he  knew  Jack  was  waiting  to  receive.  He 
talked  and  gesticulated  earnestly;  but  Lord  shook 
his  head  and  compressed  his  lips  with  great  firmness, 
whereupon  Ead,  instead  of  coming  to  supper  with 
the  rest,  wandered  sulkily  away. 

When  Mr.  Betterson  had  washed  his  hands  and 
face,  and  brushed  his  hair,  and  put  on  his  threadbare 
black  coat  and  frayed  stock,  the  family  sat  down  at 
the  table.  Jack  waited  unwillingly,  and  soon  ex 
cused  himself,  saying  he  must  look  for  his  compass 
before  dark. 

"  I  '11  attend  to  our  truckman's  little  matter  when 
I  come  back,"  he  said,  and  hurried  away. 

Link  jumped  up  from  the  table  and  went  with 
him ;  Eufe  and  Wad  promising  to  follow  as  soon  as 
they  were  through  with  their  supper. 

Careful  search  was  made  all  about  the  roadside 
bushes  where  the  wagon  had  been  partially  concealed 
when  the  compass  was  taken.  Lion  was  also  set  to 
hunt.  But  all  in  vain.  Some  faint  footprints  were 
found,  but  Jack  could  not  be  sure  that  they  were  not 
either  his  own  or  Eufe's. 


244  THE  YOUNG   SURVEYOR. 

"  Lion  don't  know  what  we  are  looking  for ;  he  's 
after  rabbits,"  said  Link.  "  Was  this  all  the  compass 
you  had  ? " 

"  The  only  surveyor's  compass ;  and  the  worst  of  it 
is,  't  was  a  borrowed  one.  It  belongs  to  Forrest  Fel- 
ton.  He  has  a  theodolite  which  we  use  for  fine 
work ;  and  I  've  a  little  pocket-compass,  given  me  by 
an  old  lady  a  few  years  ago.  I  would  n't  have  lost 
this  for  twice  its  value,  —  it 's  a  most  exasperating 
trick!"  Jack  muttered.  "And  now  it  is  suddenly 
growing  dark." 

It  was  very  suddenly  growing  very  dark.  A 
strange  cloud  was  blackening  the  sunset  sky.  "  Did 
you  ever  see  anything  so  funny  ? "  said  Link. 

"  It  is  like  the  lower  half  of  an  immense  balloon, 
the  top  spreading  out,"  said  Jack.  "See  that  long, 
hanging,  pear-shaped  end ! " 

"  I  wonder  if  the  folks  at  the  house  see  it ! "  Link 
exclaimed,  growing  excited.  "  It  looks  like  an  ele 
phant's  trunk  !  By  sixty,  it 's  growing  ! " 

"  It 's  moving  this  way,"  said  Jack.  "  Fast,  too ! 
and  roaring,  —  hear  it  ?  There  's  an  awful  storm 
coming ! " 

"  Oh ! "  cried  Link,  "  see  the  lightning-forks !  It 
will  be  here  in  a  jiffy." 

The  "elephant's  trunk,"  which  had  seemed  to  be 
feeling  its  way  up  the  valley,  now  swung  toward  the 
line  of  timber;  the  roar  which  accompanied  it  be 
came  deafening ;  and  suddenly  the  cloud,  and  all  the 
air  about  it,  seemed  filled  with  whirling  and  flying 


THE  STKANGE   CLOUD.  245 

objects,  like  the  broken  boughs  and  limbs  of  trees. 
It  was  like  some  living  monster,  vast,  supernatural, 
rushing  through  the  sky,  and  tearing  and  tramp 
ling  the  earth  with  fury.  The  mysterious  swinging 
movement,  the  uproar,  the  gloom,  the  lightnings, 
were  appalling.  And  now  Lion  set  up  a  fearful, 
ominous  howl. 

"  A  whirlwind ! "  Jack  exclaimed,  shrieking  to 
make  himself  heard.  "I  must  go  to  my  horse." 

"  Let 's  put  for  the  house  ! "    Link  yelled. 

But  hardly  had  they  reached  the  road  when  the 
storm  was  upon  them. 

Shortly  after  Jack  and  Link  had  left  the  table, 
Lord  Betterson  gave  Eufus  a  small  key,  and  told  him 
to  bring  a  certain  pocket-book  from  the  till  of  the 
family  chest  in  the  next  room. 

"We  will  have  our  friend's  eighty  dollars  ready 
for  him,  against  his  return,"  Lord  said ;  and,  counting 
out  the  money,  he  placed  it  under  the  pocket-book, 
beside  his  plate. 

Eufe  and  Wad  were  now  ready  to  go  and  help 
Jack  search  for  his  compass  ;  but  a  discussion  which 
had  been  going  on  at  intervals,  ever  since  the  draft 
came,  was  now  renewed,  and  they  stopped  to  take 
part  in  it. 

"  If  I  am  going  to  get  out  to  Divine  service  again, 
I  must  have  a  silk  dress,"  said  Caroline.  "  And,  Mr. 
Betterson,  you  need  a  new  suit ;  and  you  know  —  we 
all  know  —  nothing  becomes  you  but  broadcloth,  and 
the  finest  broadcloth.  What  do  you  think,  Lavinia 
dear  ? " 


246  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

"  I  am  sure  broadcloth  is  becoming  to  him,"  Vinnie 
replied  quietly.  "  And  I  should  like  to  see  you  come 
out  in  silk.  And  Cecie  and  Lilian  need  new  things. 
But  —  how  much  of  the  two  hundred  and  fifty  dol 
lars  is  left,  Mr.  Betterson  ? " 

"Deducting  Badcliff's  share,  one  hundred  and 
twenty  odd  dollars,"  said  Lord,  touching  the  pocket- 
book  by  his  plate. 

"One  hundred  and  twenty  dollars  will  go  but  a 
little  way,  in  a  family  where  so  many  things  are 
absolutely  needed  ! "  said  Vinnie.  "  It  seems  to  me 
I  should  want  to  get  this  room  and  your  room  plas 
tered,  the  first  thing,  —  merely  for  comfort,  in  the 
cold  weather  that  is  coming." 

"And  carpeted,  Lavinia  dear,"  simpered  Caroline. 

"  And  if  the  house  is  ever  to  be  painted,"  spoke  up 
Rufe,  "it  must  be  done  soon.  It  won't  be  worth 
painting  if  it  is  neglected  much  longer." 

"  And  we  need  so  many  things  in  the  kitchen ! " 
said  Lill.  "  Vinnie  knows  it,  but  she  won't  say  any 
thing." 

"And  lots  of  things  on  the  farm,"  said  Wad.  " If 
Rufe  and  I  are  going  to  do  anything,  we  must  have 
conveniences.  The  idea  of  having  such  a  house  as 
this,  and  nothing  but  a  miserable  log-barn  and 
stable ! " 

"We  can't  build  a  new  barn  for  a  hundred  and 
twenty  dollars,"  said  Mr.  Betterson.  "  And  we  can't 
buy  farming  tools,  and  kitchen  utensils,  and  carpets, 
and  silk,  and  broadcloth,  and  tea  and  sugar,  and 


THE  STRANGE   CLOUD.  247 

clothing  for  the  children,  and  paint  and  plaster  the 
house,  all  with  so  limited  a  sum.  The  question  then 
arises,  just  what  shall  we  do  with  the  money?" 

"  O  dear !  just  a  little  money  like  that  is  only  an 
aggravation!"  Caroline  sighed,  discouraged.  "And 
I  had  hoped  some  of  it  would  be  left  for  Lavinia 
dear;  she  deserves  it  if  anybody  does." 

"  O,  never  mind  me,"  Viniiie  replied.  "  However, 
if  I  might  suggest  —  " 

But  the  family  had  been  so  long  deciding  this 
question,  that  Fortune  seemed  now  to  take  it  out 
of  their  hands,  and  decide  it  for  them. 

It  suddenly  grew  dark,  and  an  outcry  from  the 
boys  interrupted  Vinnie.  The  tornado  was  coming. 

All  rose,  save  Cecie,  —  who  remained  seated  where 
she  had  been  placed  at  the  table,  —  and  pressed  to 
the  door  and  windows. 

The  baby  wakened  in  the  next  room,  and  began  to 
cry,  and  Caroline  went  to  take  it  up.  The  boys 
rushed  out  of  the  house.  Vinnie  turned  pale  and 
asked,  "Where  are  they  ?  Jack  and  Link ! " 

"As  well  off  as  they  would  be  here  probably," 
replied  Lord  Betterson.  "Shut  doors  and  windows 
fast.  That  horse  should  have  been  taken  care  of." 

"  Jack  would  n't  let  us  put  him  up.  I  '11  do  it 
now,"  cried  Rufe. 

But  he  had  hardly  begun  to  undo  the  halter,  when 
he  saw  the  utter  impossibility  of  getting  the  horse 
to  the  stable  before  the  storm  would  be  upon  them. 
So,  to  prevent  Snowfoot  from  breaking  away  and  dash- 


248  THE  YOUNG   SURVEYOR. 

ing  the  buggy  to  pieces,  he  determined  to  leave  him 
tied  to  the  tree,  and  stand  by  his  head,  until  the 
first  whirl  or  rush  should  have  passed.  This  he 
attempted  to  do;  and  patted  and  encouraged  the 
snorting,  terrified  animal,  till  he  was  himself  flung 
by  the  first  buffet  of  the  hurricane  back  against  the 
pillar  of  the  porch,  where  he  clung. 

"  Oh  !  what  is  that  ?  "  screamed  Lill,  watching  with 
Vinnie  from  the  window. 

Some  huge,  unwieldy  object  had  risen  and  rolled 
for  an  instant  in  the  dim  air,  over  Peakslow's  house, 
then  disappeared  as  suddenly. 

At  the  same  time  Jack  and  Link  appeared,  half 
running,  half  blown  by  the  tempest  up  the  road. 
Vinnie  watched  them  from  the  window,  and  saw  the 
enormous  sloping  pillar  of  dust  and  leaves,  and  torn 
boughs,  whirling  above  their  heads,  and  overwhelm 
ing  everything  in  its  roaring  cloud. 

The  last  she  remembered  was  Jack  and  Link  dart 
ing  by  the  corner  of  the  house,  and  Snowfoot  tugging 
at  his  halter.  Then  a  strange  electric  thrill  shot 
through  her,  the  house  shook  with  a  great  crash,  and 
all  was  dark. 


PEAKSLOW  IN  A  TIGHT  PLACE.       249 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

PEAKSLOW  IN  A  TIGHT  PLACE.  —  CECIE. 

THE  storm  could  not  have  been  two  minutes  in 
passing.  Then  it  suddenly  grew  light,  the  tempest 
lulled,  the  heavens  cleared,  and  in  not  more  than  ten 
minutes  the  sunset  sky  was  smiling  again,  a  sea  of 
tranquil  gold,  over  the  western  woods. 

Fortunately,  only  the  skirt  of  the  storm  had  swept 
over  Betterson's  house,  doing  no  very  serious  dam 
age. 

When  Vinnie  looked  again  from  the  window,  she 
saw  Snowfoot,  still  tied  by  the  halter,  standing  with 
drooping  head  and  tail,  wet  with  rain.  Jack,  hat  in 
hand,  his  hair  wildly  tumbled,  was  already  at  the 
horse's  head,  laughing  excitedly,  and  looking  back 
at  Rufe  and  Link,  who  were  coming  to  his  side. 
The  buggy,  he  noticed,  had  been  whirled  half-way 
round  by  the  wind,  so  that  the  rear  end  was  turned 
toward  the  porch. 

Through  it  all,  Lill  had  clung  in  terror  to  Vinnie, 
whose  arms  were  still  about  her.  Cecie  sat  in  her 
chair  by  the  supper-table,  white  and  speechless  from 
the  electric  shock  which  all  had  felt,  and  she  more 
sensibly  than  the  rest.  Caroline  was  in  the  next 
room  with  the  child,  whose  cries,  for  a  while  drowned 
11* 


250  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

in  the  terrible  uproar,  now  broke  forth  again,  strenu 
ous  and  shrill.  Mr.  Betterson,  holding  the  frightened 
Chokie,  opened  the  door,  and  calmly  asked  the  boys 
if  they  were  hurt. 

"  We  are  all  right,  I  guess,"  cried  Eufe.  "  "Wad 
put  for  the  barn,  to  make  room  for  the  horse  and 
buggy,  which  I  didn't  have  time  to  get  there.  I 
don't  know  where  Rad  is." 

Wad  now  appeared;  and  at  the  same  time  the 
cattle,  started  homeward  by  the  storm,  came  canter 
ing  down  the  woodland  road,  with  the  rattling  cow 
bell,  and  ran  for  refuge  to  the  barn-yard. 

"  The  big  oak  behind  the  house,  there,  —  have  you 
seen  it?"  cried  Wad.  "It's  twisted  off.  And 
where  's  the  well-curb  ? " 

"That  flew  to  pieces,  and  the  boards  went  up 
into  the  air  like  kites,  —  I  saw  them,"  said  Link. 
"Where's  the  dog?" 

"  He  's  in  the  bushes,  or  under  a  log  somewhere," 
Jack  replied.  "He  was  shot  at  once,  with  a  gun 
held  close  to  his  head,  —  luckily,  there  was  no  lead 
in  it.  For  a  long  time  he  was  afraid  of  a  gun ;  and 
thunder,  or  any  big  noise,  frightens  him  even  now." 

"  Some  of  our  fences  look  pretty  flat,  —  rails  tum 
bled  every  which  way  ! "  said  Rufe.  "  A  good  deal 
of  damage  must  have  been  done  south  of  us." 

"  Something  looks  odd  over  there  toward  Peak- 
slow's,  —  what  is  it  ? "  cried  Link. 

"Some  of  the  tree-tops  by  the  road  have  been 
lopped  off,"  replied  Jack. 


PEAKSLOW  IN   A  TIGHT  PLACE.  251 

"  That  is  n't  all,"  said  Lord  Betterson.  "  Sure  as 
fate,  something  has  happened  to  Peakslow's  build 
ings." 

"  That  is  what  I  saw ! "  Vinnie  exclaimed.  "  Some 
thing  turned  over  in  the  air  like  the  roof  of  a  house." 

"  I  thought  just  now  I  heard  cries  in  that  direc 
tion,"  said  Jack.  "  Hark  a  moment ! " 

"  There  comes  somebody,"  said  Rufe,  as  a  girl  of 
twelve  years,  barefoot,  bonnetless,  wild  with  fright, 
came  running  up  the  road.  "  It 's  'Lecty  Ann  ! " 

Out  of  breath,  almost  out  of  her  wits,  the  girl  ran 
as  far  as  the  door-yard  fence,  then  stopped,  as  if  un 
able  or  afraid  to  go  farther,  caught  hold  of  the  pick 
ets,  and,  putting  her  pale  face  between  them,  gasped 
out  something  which  nobody  could  understand. 

"  What  is  it  ?  —  what 's  the  matter  ? "  cried  Jack, 
advancing  toward  her. 

"House  —  blowed  down  —  covered  up!"  was  all 
she  could  articulate. 

"  Who  is  covered  up  ?  " 

"  Don't  know  —  some  of  the  folks  —  pa,  I  guess." 

Jack  did  not  stop  to  hear  more ;  but,  fired  with  a 
generous  impulse  to  aid  the  unfortunate,  whoever 
they  might  be,  gave  one  backward  look,  threw  up 
his  hand  as  a  signal,  shouted  "  Help,  boys ! "  ran  to 
a  length  of  fence  which  the  wind  had  thrown  down, 
bounded  over  like  a  deer,  and  was  off. 

Vinnie  followed ;  but  was  soon  overtaken  by  Mr. 
Betterson  and  the  boys,  who  passed  her,  as  if  run 
ning  a  race.  Then  she  heard  screams  behind;  and 


252  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

there  was  Chokie,  sprawling  over  the  prostrate  fence, 
which  he  had  rashly  taken,  in  his  eagerness  to  keep 
up  with  Lill. 

By  the  time  Chokie  was  extricated  Mrs.  Betterson 
appeared,  babe  in  arms,  tottering  out  of  the  door, 
and  hastening,  in  the  excitement  of  the  moment,  to 
learn  what  dreadful  catastrophe  had  overtaken  their 
neighbors. 

"  Stay  with  Arthur  and  your  mother,"  Vinnie  said 
to  Lill ;  "I  may  do  something  to  help."  And  away 
she  sped. 

'Lecty  Ann,  met  by  Mrs.  Betterson  at  the  gate, 
was  now  able  to  tell  more  of  her  story;  and  so 
strange,  so  tragical  it  seemed,  that  Caroline  forgot  all 
about  her  ill  health,  the  baby  in  her  arms,  and  Cecie 
left  alone  in  the  house,  and  brought  up  the  rear  of 
the  little  procession,  —  Lill  and  'Lecty  Ann  and 
Chokie  preceding  her  down  the  road. 

They  had  not  gone  far,  when  Lion  came  out  of  the 
woods,  with  downcast  ears  and  tail,  ashamed  of  his 
recent  cowardly  conduct.  And  so,  accompanied  by 
the  dog  and  the  children,  —  Lill  lugging  the  baby  at 
last,  —  Caroline  approached  the  scene  of  the  dis 
aster. 

The  whole  force  of  the  tornado  seemed  to  have 
fallen  upon  Peakslow's  buildings.  The  stable  was 
unroofed,  and  the  barn  had  lost  a  door. 

The  house  had  fared  still  worse :  it  was  —  even  as 
'Lecty  Ann  had  said  —  almost  literally  "blowed 
down." 


PEAKSLOW  IN  A  TIGHT  PLACE.  253 

It  had  consisted  of  two  parts,  —  a  pretty  substan 
tial  log-cabin,  which  dated  back  to  the  earliest  days 
of  the  settlement,  and  a  framed  addition,  called  a 
lean-to,  or  "linter."  The  roof  of  the  old  part  had 
been  lifted,  and  tumbled,  with  some  of  the  upper 
logs,  a  mass  of  ruins,  over  upon  the  linter,  which 
had  been  crushed  to  the  ground  by  the  weight. 

Mrs.  Peakslow  and  the  girls  and  younger  children 
were  in  the  log-house  at  the  time  ;  and,  marvellous  as 
it  seemed,  all  had  escaped  serious  injury. 

The  boys  were  in  the  field  with  their  father,  and 
had  run  a  race  with  the  tornado.  The  tornado  beat. 
Dud  was  knocked  down  within  a  few  rods  of  the 
house.  Zeph  was  blown  up  on  a  stack  of  hay,  and 
lodged  there;  the  stack  itself — and  this  was  one  of 
the  curious  freaks  of  the  whirlwind  —  being  unin 
jured,  except  that  it  was  canted  over  a  little,  and 
ruffled  a  good  deal,  as  if  its  feathers  had  been  stroked 
the  wrong  way. 

Mr.  Peakslow  was  ahead  of  the  boys ;  and  they 
thought  he  must  have  reached  the  linter. 

Zeph,  slipping  down  from  his  perch  in  the  hay 
stack,  as  soon  as  the  storm  had  passed,  and  seeing 
the  house  in  ruins,  and  his  mother  and  sisters  strug 
gling  to  get  out,  had  run  screaming  for  help  down 
the  road  toward  Mr.  Wiggett's.  Dud  remained ;  and 
by  pushing  from  without,  while  the  imprisoned  fam 
ily  lifted  and  pulled  from  within,  helped  to  move  a 
log  which  had  fallen  down  against  the  closed  door, 
and  so  aided  the  escape  from  the  house. 


254  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR/ 

'Lecty  Ann  ran  to  the  nearest  neighbor's  up  the 
river.  The  rest  stayed  by  the  ruins ;  and  there  Lord 
Betterson  and  Jack  —  the  earliest  on  the  spot  — 
found  them,  a  terrified  group,  bewildered,  bewailing, 
gazing  hopelessly  and  helplessly  at  the  unroofed 
cabin  and  crushed  linter,  and  calling  for  "Pa." 

"  Where  is  your  husband,  Mrs.  Peakslow  ? "  cried 
Jack. 

"  0,  I  don't  know  where  he  is,  'thout  he  's  there ! " 
said  the  poor  woman,  with  a  gesture  of  despair  to 
ward  the  ruined  linter; 

"This  rubbish  must  be  removed,"  said  Lord  Bet 
terson.  "  If  friend  Peakslow  is  under  it,  he  can't  be 
taken  out  too  soon." 

And  with  his  own  hands  he  set  to  work,  display 
ing  an  energy  of  will  and  coolness  of  judgment  which 
would  have  astonished  Jack,  if  he  had  not  once  be 
fore  seen  something  of  what  was  in  the  man. 

Jack  and  the  boys  seconded  their  father ;  and  now 
Dud  came  and  worked  side  by  side  with  Wad  and 
Eufe. 

A  broken  part  of  the  roof  was  knocked  to  pieces, 
and  the  rafters  were  used  for  levers  and  props.  The 
main  portion  of  the  roof  was  next  turned  over,  and 
got  out  of  the  way.  Then  one  by  one  the  logs  were 
removed;  all  hands,  from  Lord  Betterson  down  to 
Link,  working  like  heroes. 

Meanwhile,  Vinnie  did  what  she  could  to  aid  and 
comfort  Mrs.  Peakslow ;  and  Caroline  and  her  little 
company  came  and  looked  on. 


PEAKSLOW  IN  A  TIGHT  PLACE.  255 

Mr.  Wiggett  also  arrived,  with  Zeph,  and  helped 
get  away  the  last  of  the  logs. 

Under  the  logs  was  the  crushed  shell  of  the  linter ; 
and  all  looked  anxiously,  to  see  what  was  under  that. 

A  good  many  things  were  under  it,  —  pots  and 
kettles,  wash-tubs,  milk-pans  (badly  battered),  churn 
and  cheese-press,  bed  and  trundle-bed,  —  but  no 
Peakslow. 

It  was  a  disappointment,  and  yet  a  relief,  not  to 
find  him  there,  after  all.  But  where  was  he  ?  Dud 
ran  back  to  the  field,  to  look  for  him;  while  the 
others  rested  from  their  labors. 

"Did  the  wind  do  you  much  damage,  Mr.  Wig 
gett  ? "  Lord  inquired. 

"Not  so  much  as  it  mout,"  replied  the  old  man. 
"  It  was  mighty  suddent.  Banged  if  I  knowed  what 
in  seven  kingdoms  was  a-gwine  to  happen.  It  roared 
and  bellered  that  orful,  I  did  n't  know  but  the  etar- 
nal  smash-up  had  come." 

"  It  must  have  passed  pretty  near  your  house,  —  I 
saw  it  swing  that  way,"  said  Jack. 

"  Wai,  I  reckon  you  're  right  thar,  young  man.  It 
jest  took  holt  o'  my  cabin,  an'  slewed  one  corner  on 't 
around  about  five  or  six  inches ;  an'  done  no  more 
damage,  in  partic'lar,  fur 's  I  can  diskiver ;  only,  of 
course,  it  discomfusticated  that  ar'  noon-mark.  I  left 
the  ol'  woman  mournin'  over  that ! " 

Jack  laughed,  and  promised  to  replace  the  noon- 
mark. 

"  There  's  Dud  a-yelling ! "  said  Link. 


256 


THE  YOUNG  SUEVEYOR. 


The  roof  of  the  shed  —  which  must  have  been  the 
object  Vinnie  saw  rise  and  turn  in  the  air  —  had 


PEAKSLOW    REAPPEARS. 


been  taken  off  very  neatly,  with  the  two  gable  pieces, 
whirled  over  once  or  more,  and  then  landed  gently, 
right  side  up  with  care,  on  the  edge  of  the  potato- 


PEAKSLOW   IN  A  TIGHT  PLACE.  257 

patch,  two  or  three  rods  away.  Dud,  hunting  for  his 
father,  passed  near  it,  and  heard  stifled  cries  come 
from  under  it.  He  was  yelling,  indeed,  as  Link  said. 

In  a  moment  a  dozen  feet  rushed  to  the  spot,  and 
a  dozen  hands  laid  hold  of  one  side  of  the  roof,  under 
which  Jack  thrust  a  lever.  Some  lifted  on  the  lever, 
while  some  lifted  on  the  edge  of  the  roof  itself;  and 
out  crawled  —  bushy  head  and  hooked  nose  fore 
most —  the  shaggy  shape  of  the  elder  Peakslow. 

The  roof  was  let  down  again  as  soon  as  Peakslow's 
legs  were  well  from  under  it,  and  a  wondering  group 
—  men,  boys,  women,  and  children  —  gathered  round 
to  see  if  he  was  hurt. 

"  Wai ! "  said  Peakslow,  getting  upon  his  feet,  giv 
ing  his  clothes  a  brush  with  his  broad  hand,  and 
staring  about  him,  "  this  is  a  mighty  perty  piece  of 
business !  Did  n't  none  on  ye  hear  me  call  ? " 

"  Did  you  call  ? "  said  Mrs.  Peakslow,  trembling 
with  joy  and  fright. 

"  Call  ? "  echoed  Peakslow,  feeling  his  left  shoulder 
•with  his  right  hand.  "  I  believe  I  b'en  callin'  there 
for  the  last  half-hour.  What  was  ye  knockin'  that 
ruf  to  pieces  for  ?  I  could  hear  ye,  an'  see  ye,  an'  I 
wanted  to  put  a  stop  to  't.  Had  n't  the  wind  dam 
aged  me  enough,  but  you  must  pitch  in  ? " 

"  We  thought  you  were  under  the  ruins,"  Mr.  Bet- 
terson  replied  with  dignity. 

"  Thought  I  was  under  the  ruins  !  What  made  ye 
think  that  ? "  growled  Peakslow. 

"  I  thought  so  —  I  told  them  so,"  Mrs.  Peakslow 

Q 


258  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

explained ;  while  Lord  Betterson  walked  away  with 
calm  disgust. 

"  Ye  might  'a'  knowed  better  'n  that !  Here  I  was 
under  this  ruf  all  the  time.  It  come  over  on  to  me 
like  a  great  bird,  knocked  me  down  with  a  flop  of  its 
wing, — mos'  broke  my  shoulder,  I  believe;  an'  when 
I  come  to  myself,  and  peeked  through  a  crack,  there 
was  a  crew  knockin'  the  ruf  o'  the  house  to  flinders. 
I  was  too  weak  to  call  very  loud,  but,  if  you  'd  cared 
much,  I  should  think  ye  might  'a'  heard  me.  Look 
a'  that  house,  now!  look  a'  that  shed!  It's  the 
blastedest  luck ! " 

Jack  could  n't  help  smiling.  Peakslow  turned 
upon  him  furiously. 

"  You  here  ?  So  ye  think  my  boy 's  a  thief,  do 
ye?" 

"  Come,  Lion  !  come,  boys  ! "  said  Jack,  and  started 
to  follow  Mr.  Betterson,  without  more  words. 

"  Come  here  and  'cuse  my  boy  o'  stealin' ! "  said 
Peakslow,  turning,  and  looking  all  about  him,  as  if 
he  had  hardly  yet  regained  his  senses.     "  I  had  a  hat. 
somewheres.     Hundred   dollars  —  no,  nor  two  hun 
dred —  won't  pay  the  damage  done  to  me  this  day." 

"But  the  children,  they  are  all  safe,"  said  Mrs. 
Peakslow,  "and  we  ought  to  be  thankful." 

"  Thankful !  Look  a'  that  linter !  Three  hundred 
won't  do  it !  " 

"  O  pa ! "  cried  Zeph,  "  you  've  got  a  great  gash  on 
the  back  o'  your  head  ! " 

"  Never  mind  the  gash,"  said  Peakslow,  putting  up 


PEAKSLOW  IN  A  TIGHT  PLACE.  259 

his  hand.  "  That  '11  heal  itself.  Holes  in  the  build- 
in's  won't." 

Vinnie  meanwhile  conferred  with  Jack  and  Mr. 
Betterson,  as  they  were  about  going  away ;  and  also 
called  her  sister,  and  afterward  Mrs.  Peakslow,  to  the 
consultation. 

"  0,  I  don't  know,  Lavinia  dear ! "  said  Caroline  in 
great  distress  of  mind. 

But  Lord  Betterson  spoke  out  manfully,  — 

"  Lavinia  is  right.  Mrs.  Peakslow,  we  have  plenty 
of  spare  room  in  our  house,  which  you  are  welcome 
to  till  you  can  do  better." 

"  0  Mr.  Betterson  ! "  the  poor  woman  sobbed  out, 
quite  overcome  by  this  unexpected  kindness,  "you 
are  too  good!" 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  replied  Lord  Betterson,  in 
his  most  gracious  manner.  "  We  wish  simply  to  do 
as  we  might  wish  neighbors  to  do  by  us  under  similar 
circumstances.  Our  boys  will  help  yours  get  your 
things  over  to  my  house,  —  whatever  you  want,  Mrs. 
Peakslow." 

Lord  did  not  much  mind  the  woman's  outburst  of 
tears  and  thanks ;  but  when  he  observed  the  look  of 
admiration  and  gratitude  in  Vinnie's  deep  eyes,  fixed 
upon  him,  he  felt  an  unaccustomed  thrill. 

Mrs.  Peakslow  went  weeping  back  to  her  husband. 

"I  am  sorry  you  spoke  as  you  did,"  she  said. 
"We  all  thought  you  was  under  the  linter;  and 
they  was  all  workin'  so  hard  —  as  if  they  had  been 
our  best  friends  —  to  get  you  out." 


260  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

"  Best  friends ! "  repeated  Peakslow,  with  a  .snort 
of  angry  contempt. 

"  Yes,  pa ;  and  now,  —  will  you  believe  it  ?  —  now 
that  we  have  n't  a  ruf  to  our  heads,  they  offer  us 
shelter  in  their  house  !  " 

"  In  the  castle  ?  —  huh ! "  sneered  Peakslow.  "  I 
never  thought  't  would  come  to  that ! " 

"  Where  else  can  we  go  ? "  said  Mrs.  Peakslow. 
"  It 's  'most  night,  —  nights  are  beginnin'  to  be  cold, 
—  and  think  o'  the  children !  'T  will  be  weeks,  I 
s'pose,  'fore  ye  can  rebuild." 

"  If  I  could  n't  rebuild  in  all  etarnity,  I  would  n't 
set  foot  in  Lord  Betterson's  castle ! "  said  Peakslow. 
He  looked  again  at  the  ruined  house,  then  at  the 
children,  and  added:  "Me  an'  the  boys,  we  can 
stop  in  the  stable,  or  dig  holes  in  the  stack,  to  make 
ourselves  comf 'table.  Do  what  you  're  a  min'  ter, 
for  the  rest.  But  don't  say  /  told  ye  to  ask  or  accept 
a  favor  of  them" 

The  Bettersons,  Vinnie,  and  Jack  were  waiting 
between  the  ruined  house  and  the  road;  and  Mrs. 
Betterson  was  saying,  "  Lillie,  you  and  I  must  be 
going  back ;  remember,  we  left  Cecie  all  alone ;  and 
the  evening  air  is  too  chill  for  the  baby,"  when  Link 
cried,  — 

"  Who 's  that  coming  down  the  road  ? " 

All  turned;  and  Vinnie  and  Jack  and  Link  ran 
out  to  look.  They  could  scarcely  believe  their  eyes. 

"  It  can't  be  ! "  said  Vinnie. 

"  Yes,  it  is,"  exclaimed  Link ;  "  it 's  her  —  it 's  her ! " 


CECIE.  261 

"  Who  ?  "  Caroline  inquired  anxiously,  dreading 
some  new  calamity. 

"  Cecie  !  Cecie,  sure  as  the  world  ! "  said  two  or 
three  at  once. 

It  was  indeed  the  little  invalid,  who,  though  she 
had  scarcely  taken  a  step  without  help  for  many 
months,  was  actually  coming  down  the  road,  walk 
ing,  and  walking  fast,  without  even  the  crutch  she 
had  sometimes  tried  to  use  ! 

She  was  beckoning  and  calling.  Jack  and  Vinnie 
and  the  boys  ran  to  meet  her.  She  was  pale  and 
very  much  excited,  and  it  was  some  time  before  she 
could  speak  coherently. 

"  Eadcliff ! "  was  almost  her  first  word. 

"What  about  Eadcliff?  where  is  he?"  Vinnie 
asked. 

"Gone!" 

"  Gone  where  ? " 

"I  don't  know.  He  came  into  the  house  —  he 
saw  the  pocket-book  and  money  on  the  table  —  I 
told  him  he  must  n't  take  them ! " 

"  And  did  he  ? "  said  Eufe. 

"Yes.  He  only  laughed  at  me.  He  said  his 
chance  had  come." 

"  Which  way  did  he  go  ? " 

"  He  drove  up  through  the  woods." 

"  Drove  ?  "  echoed  Jack. 

"  He  took  the  horse  and  buggy." 

"  My  horse  and  buggy  ! "  And  Jack,  followed  by 
Lion  and  Eufe  and  Link,  started  up  the  road. 


262  THE  YOUNG   SURVEYOR. 

Though  shocked  at  Radcliff's  conduct,  Vinnie 
thought  less  of  the  loss  of  the  money,  and  of  the 
horse  and  buggy,  than  of  the  seeming  miracle  in 
Cecie's  case. 

"  How  could  you  walk  so,  Cecie  ? " 

"  I  don't  know.  I  suppose  it  was  the  excitement. 
Strength  came  to  me.  I  called,  but  could  not  make 
anybody  hear,  and  I  thought  you  ought  to  know." 

Mr.  Betterson  would  have  carried  her  home  in  his 
arms,  but  she  would  not  let  him. 

"  I  can  walk  better  and  better !  That  numbness 
of  my  limbs  is  almost  gone.  I  believe  I  am  going 
to  be  cured,  after  all ! " 


"ON   THE  WAR  TRAIL."  263 


CHAPTEK  XXXVI. 

"ON   THE  WAR  TRAIL." 

THERE  could  be  no  mistake  about  it,  —  pocket- 
book  and  money,  and  horse  and  buggy,  were  gone 
with  Kadcliff. 

"He  has  taken  the  road  to  Chicago,"  said  Jack, 
easily  tracking  the  wheels  after  the  recent  rain. 
"  But  he  11  find  it  not  so  easy  selling  the  horse  there 
a  second  time." 

"  But  he  '11  spend  all  that  money,"  said  Eufe. 
"  He  11  find  it  easy  enough  to  do  that." 

"  I  wish  it  was  n't  night,"  said  Jack.  "  I  would 
track  him !  And  I  will  as  it  is.  Have  you  a  lan 
tern  ? " 

"  Yes  —  I  '11  go  with  you !  Shall  we  take  the  mare 
and  one-horse  wagon  ? " 

"  If  you  like.  But,  Eufe,  if  you  go  with  me,  you  '11 
have  to  travel  all  night.  I  am  on  the  war  trail ! " 

"  I  'm  with  you  ! "  said  Eufe ;  and  he  gave  an  In 
dian  war-whoop. 

Mr.  Betterson,  coming  up,  approved  of  this  resolu 
tion.  "  And,  boys,"  he  said,  "  if  you  should  lay  hands 
on  Eadcliff,  you  may  as  well  bring  him  back  with 
you.  We  11  try  to  have  a  more  satisfactory  settle 
ment  with  him  this  time." 


264  THE  YOUNG   SURVEYOR. 

Jack  left  Ids  friends  to  harness  the  mare  to  the 
wagon,  and  went  on  alone,  with  Lion  and  the  lantern, 
up  through  the  woods. 

For  a  while  he  had  no  trouble  in  following  the 
fresh  marks  of  hoofs  and  wheels  over  the  wet  ground. 
But  when  he  reached  the  prairie,  an  unforeseen  diffi 
culty  appeared.  The  rain  had  not  extended  so  far, 
and  the  tracks  were  not  easily  distinguished. 

It  was  nearly  dark  when  Eufe,  following  in  the 
wagon,  emerged  from  the  woods.  Lonesome  and 
gloomy  stretched  the  great  prairie  before  him,  under 
a  sky  of  flying  clouds.  The  insects  of  the  autumn 
night  filled  the  air  with  their  shrill,  melancholy 
notes.  An  owl  hooted  in  the  forest ;  a  pair  of  whip- 
poorwills  were  vociferating  somewhere  in  the  thick 
ets  ;  and  far  off  on  the  prairie  the  wolves  howled. 
Now  and  then  a  rift  of  dark  blue  sky  and  a  few 
wildly  hurrying  stars  were  visible  through  the  flock 
ing  clouds.  No  other  light,  or  sign  of  life,  until  Rufe 
descried  far  before  him  in  the  darkness  a  waving, 
ruddy  gleam,  and  knew  it  was  the  ray  from  the  lan 
tern1  swinging  in  Jack's  hand. 

Driving  on  as  fast  as  the  mare's  somewhat  decrepit 
paces  would  allow,  he  found  Jack  waiting  for  him  at 
a  point  where  the  road  divided,  one  branch  taking  a 
northerly  direction,  the  other  trending  easterly,  to 
ward  the  great  road  to  Chicago. 

"  Here  's  a  puzzle,"  said  Jack,  as  Rufe  drove  up. 
"  I  've  tracked  the  fellow  as  far  as  here,  notwith 
standing  he  has  tried  the  trick  of  driving  off  on  the 


"ON  THE  WAK   TRAIL."  265 

prairie  in  two  or  three  places.  But  here,  instead  of 
taking  the  direct  road  to  Chicago,  as  we  supposed,  he 
has  taken  this  by-road,  if  my  eyes  are  good  for  any 
thing.  Lion  says  I  am  right ;  for  I  believe  I  've 
made  him  understand  we  are  hunting  Snowfoot." 

Rufe  jumped  down  from  the  wagon,  and  saw  by 
the  light  of  the  lantern  the  imperfect  and  yet  pecul 
iar  marks  of  Snowfoot's  rather  smooth-worn  shoes, 
and  of  the  narrow  wheel-tires. 

"  It  is  a  game  of  his  to  mislead  us,"  said  Rufe.  "  I 
believe  if  we  follow  him  on  to  where  this  by-road 
crosses  the  main  road,  we  shall  find  he  has  there 
turned  off  toward  the  city." 

"  Go  ahead,  Lion ;  find  Snowfoot ! "  cried  Jack,  and 
jumped  into  the  wagon  with  Rufe. 

They  got  on  as  fast  as  they  could ;  but  the  pursuit 
was  necessarily  slow,  for  not  only  was  the  mare  a 
creature  of  very  indifferent  speed,  but  the  boys  found 
it  useful  to  stop  every  now  and  then  and  examine 
the  tracks  by  the  light  of  the  lantern. 

"  The  dog  is  right ;  and  we  are  right  so  far,  sure  ! " 
said  Jack,  after  they  had  proceeded  about  half  a  mile 
in  this  way.  "  Slow  and  sure  is  our  policy.  We  've 
all  the  fall  before  us,  Rufe ;  and  we  '11  overhaul  your 
pretty  cousin,  unless  something  breaks.  Now,  drive 
straight  on  to  the  main  road,  and  we  '11  see  what  we 
can  discover  there." 

To  the  surprise  of  both  again,  the  fugitive,  instead 
of  turning  cityward,  kept  the  northerly  road. 

"  He  is  cunning,"  said  Rufe.     "  He  knows  Chicago 
12 


266  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

is  the  first  place  where  one  would  be  apt  to  look  for 
him ;  and,  besides,  I  think  he  is  getting  too  well 
known  in  Chicago." 

"  He  is  bound  for  Wisconsin,"  cried  Jack.  "  Whip 
along.  This  road  passes  through  the  timber,  and 
brings  us  to  the  river  again ;  we  shall  soon  find  set 
tlements,  where  we  can  inquire  for  our  game." 

"  If  you  can  speak  Dutch,  and  if  it  was  n't  too  late 
when  Rad  passed  through,"  Eufe  replied.  "  There  is 
a  colony  of  meinheers  up  here ;  they  go  to  bed  a  little 
after  sundown." 

As  they  drove  on  from  the  crossing,  Jack  said, 
"  That  left-hand  road  goes  to  North  Mills.  But  I 
sha'  n't  see  North  Mills  to-night,  nor  for  a  good  many 
nights,  I  'm  afraid." 

Jack,  however,  as  we  shall  see,  was  mistaken. 

The  road  above  the  crossing  was  much  more  trav 
elled  than  below ;  and  for  a  while  the  boys  found  it 
very  difficult  to  make  out  Snowfoot's  tracks.  But 
soon  again  fortune  favored  them. 

"  Rain  —  it  has  been  raining  here ! "  said  Jack,  ex 
amining  the  road  where  it  entered  the  skirts  of  the 
timber,  "and  raining  hard!  We  must  be  nearing 
the  path  of  the  whirlwind  again." 

They  passed  through  a  belt  of  woods,  where  the 
storm  had  evidently  passed  but  without  doing  much 
damage ;  for  it  was  a  peculiarity  of  that  elephant  of 
a  cloud  that  it  appeared  to  draw  up  its  destroying 
trunk  once  or  twice,  and  skip  over  a  few  miles  in  its 
course,  only  to  swing  it  down  again  with  greater  fury. 


"ON  THE  WAR  TRAIL."  267 

The  road  was  now  drenched  all  the  way,  and  the 
trail  they  followed  was  so  distinct  that  the  boys  did 
not  stop  to  make  inquiries  at  the  log-huts  which  began 
to  appear  before  they  were  well  through  the  woods. 

They  made  comparatively  rapid  progress  up  the 
valley,  until  they  came  to  a  point  where  the  river,  in 
its  winding  course,  was  crossed  by  the  road.  There, 
again,  the  tornado  had  done  a  brisk  business ;  the 
bridge  was  destroyed,  the  side  of  the  road  gullied, 
and  the  river  swollen. 

Both  boys  alighted  and  examined  the  track. 

"  Here  is  where  he  stopped  and  hesitated,  finding 
the  bridge  gone,"  said  Jack.  "And  see !  here  are  his 
own  tracks,  as  if  he  had  got  out  of  the  buggy  and 
gone  ahead  to  reconnoitre." 

"As  well  he  might,"  Eufe  answered.  "Look  at 
these  tree-tops,  and  the  timbers  of  the  bridge  lodged 
in  the  middle  of  the  river  !  " 

"He  seems  to  have  got  through,  and  I  guess  we 
can,"  said  Jack.  "  I  've  forded  this  stream,  below  the 
bridge,  before  now,  when  I  Ve  wanted  to  water  my 
horse ;  but  it  was  free  from  all  this  sort  of  rubbish 
then.  There  must  have  been  a  great  fall  of  rain  up 
here ! " 


268  THE  YOUNG   SURVEYOR. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

THE  MYSTERY  OF  A  PAIR  OF  BREECHES. 

JACK  went  out  with  the  lantern  upon  the  ruined 
abutment  of  the  bridge,  and  showed  a  space  beside 
the  drift-wood,  in  the  turbid  and  whirling  current, 
where  fording  seemed  practicable. 

Then  the  boys  got  into  the  wagon  again,  and  the 
mare  was  driven  cautiously  forward,  by  the  glim 
mering  light  which  the  lantern  shed  faintly  before 
and  around  them.  Lion  swam  ahead,  throwing  up 
his  muzzle  and  barking  loud,  like  a  faithful  pilot 
showing  the  safest  way.  The  wheels  went  in  over 
the  hubs;  the  water  came  into  the  bottom  of  the 
wagon-box;  the  flood  boiled  and  plashed  and  gur 
gled,  and  swept  away  in  black,  whirling  eddies ;  and 
Jack  said,  "  This  would  n't  be  a  very  nice  place  to 
break  down,  eh,  —  would  it  ? " 

But  they  got  safely  through ;  and  on  the  farther 
bank  they  were  pleased  to  find  again  the  trail  of  the 
horse  and  buggy. 

They  were  now  in  high  spirits.  The  whirlwind 
having  passed  up  the  river,  the  road  lay  aside  from 
its  direct  path,  but  still  within  the  area  of  rain. 

"This  is  gay!"  said  Jack.  "He  thinks  he  has 
baffled  us;  and  he  will  put  up  somewhere  for  the 


THE  MYSTERY  OF  A  PAIR  OF  BREECHES.    269 

night ;  and  we  won't  I  We  shall  circumvent  Master 
Kadcliff!" 

But  soon  the  boys  were  again  puzzled.  Reaching 
another  cross-road,  and  bringing  the  lantern  to  bear 
upon  the  trail,  they  found  that,  instead  of  continuing 
northward,  toward  Wisconsin,  or  turning  to  the  right, 
in  the  direction  of  Chicago,  it  turned  at  a  sharp  angle 
to  the  left,  in  the  direction  of  North  Mills. 

"  This  move  is  a  perfect  mystery  to  me ! "  Jack 
exclaimed.  "  It  seems  as  if  he  had  thought  the 
thing  all  over,  and  finally  chosen  the  very  last  place 
one  would  expect  him  to  make  for." 

"  Are  you  sure  this  road  leads  to  North  Mills  ? " 

"  Perfectly  sure ;  I  Ve  been  this  way  three  or  four 
times.  But  another  road  branches  from  it,  and 
passes  a  mile  north  of  the  Mills;  he  has  probably 
taken  that." 

But  no ;  after  a  good  deal  of  trouble  —  the  road 
appearing  once  more  dry  and  much  trodden  —  they 
discovered  that  the  horse  and  buggy  had  not  taken 
the  branch,  but  kept  the  direct  route  to  the  Mills ! 

"  It  does  n't  seem  possible !  there  must  be  some 
mistake  here,"  said  Jack.  And  every  rod  of  their 
progress  seemed  now  to  increase  the  boys'  doubts. 

The  road,  long  before  they  reached  the  Mills,  be 
came  a  mere  bed  of  brown  dust,  in  which  it  required 
a  pretty  vivid  imagination  to  distinguish  one  track 
from  another.  The  boys'  spirits  sank  accordingly. 
Lion  still  led  them  boldly  on ;  but  his  guidance  could 
no  longer  be  trusted. 


270  THE  YOUNG   SURVEYOR. 

"  He 's  bound  for  home  now,"  said  Jack, "  and  he  11 
go  straight  there." 

"  If  Rad  did  come  this  way,"  said  Eufe,  "  he  was 
shrewd,  after  all.  He  knew  that  by  passing  through 
a  busy  place  like  the  Mills,  he  would  hide  his  tracks 
as  he  could  n't  in  any  other  way." 

"  To  find  'em  again,"  Jack  replied,  rather  gloomily, 
"  we  shall  have  to  examine  every  road  going  out  of 
this  place." 

It  must  have  been  near  midnight  when  they  en 
tered  the  village.  The  houses  were  all  dark  and 
still ;  not  a  ray  at  a^  window,  not  even  the  bark  of  a 
dog,  gave  sign  of  life  as  they  passed. 

"  This  looks  discouraging,"  said  Jack. 

"  A  needle  in  a  haystack  is  no  comparison,"  replied 
Hufe.  "  The  lantern  is  almost  out." 

"  I  can  get  another  at  our  house,"  said  Jack.  "  We 
may  as  well  follow  the  dog  now.  What  did  I  tell 
you  ?  He  is  going  straight  home ! " 

The  dog  trotted  up  to  the  gate  before  Mr.  Lanman's 
cottage,  and  the  wagon  turned  up  after  him. 

"  What 's  that  ahead  of  us  ? "  said  Jack,  as  the  mare 
came  to  a  sudden  stop. 

"  Seems  to  be  a  wagon  standing,"  said  Rufe,  shad 
ing  his  eyes  from  the  lantern  and  peering  into  the 
darkness. 

Jack  jumped  out,  ran  forward,  and  gave  a  shout. 
The  wagon  was  a  buggy,  and  the  horse  was  Snow- 
foot,  standing  before  the  gate,  waiting  patiently  to 
be  let  in. 


THE  MYSTERY  OF  A  PAIR  OF  BREECHES.    271 

\ 

Quite  wild  with  delight  and  astonishment,  Jack 
took  the  lantern  and  examined  horse  and  vehicle. 

"  Old  Lion !  you  were  right,"  he  exclaimed.  "  The 
scamp  must  have  let  the  horse  go,  and  taken  to  his 
heels.  And  the  horse  made  for  home." 

"  The  most  he  cared  for  was  to  get  off  with  the 
money,"  said  Eufe,  not  quite  so  abundantly  pleased 
as  his  friend.  "  What 's  this  thing  under  the  seat  ?  " 

"  The  compass  ! "  said  Jack,  if  possible,  still  more 
surprised  and  overjoyed,  "  which  I  accused  Zeph  of 
stealing ! " 

Eufe  continued  rummaging,  and,  holding  the  lan 
tern  with  one  hand,  lifted  up  a  limp  garment  with 
the  other. 

"  What  in  thunder  ?  A  pair  of  breeches  !  Bad's 
breeches  !  Where  can  the  scamp  have  gone  with 
out  his  breeches  ?  See  what 's  in  the  pocket  there, 
Jack." 

Jack  thrust  in  his  hand,  and  brought  out  some 
loose  bank-notes.  He  thrust  in  his  hand  again,  and 
brought  out  a  pocket-book,  containing  more  bank 
notes.  It  was  Mr.  Betterson's  pocket-book,  and  the 
notes  were  the  stolen  money. 

Jack  was  hastily  turning  them  over  —  not  count 
ing  them,  he  was  too  much  amazed  and  excited  to  do 
that  —  when  the  candle  in  the  lantern  gave  a  final 
flicker  and  went  out,  leaving  the  boys  and  the  mys 
tery  of  the  compass  and  the  money  and  Ead's. panta 
loons  enveloped  in  sudden  darkness. 


272  THE  YOUNG   SURVEYOR. 


CHAPTEE  XXXVIII. 

THE   MORNING  AFTER. 

BRIGHT  rose  the  sun  the  next  morning  over  the 
leafy  tops  of  Long  "Woods,  and  smiled  upon  the 
pleasant  valley. 

It  found  many  a  trace  of  the  previous  day's  dev 
astation, —  trees  uprooted  or  twisted  off  at  their 
trunks,  branches  and  limbs  broken  and  scattered, 
fences  blown  down,  and  more  than  one  man's  build 
ings  unroofed  or  demolished. 

It  found  Peakslow,  accompanied  by  the  two  older 
boys,  walking  about  his  private  and  particular  pile 
of  ruins,  in  a  gloomy  and  bewildered  state  of  mind, 
as  if  utterly  at  a  loss  to  know  where  the  repair  of 
such  tremendous  damages  should  begin.  And  (the 
sun  itself  must  have  been  somewhat  astonished)  it 
found  Mrs.  Peakslow  and  the  younger  children,  five 
in  number,  comfortably  quartered  in  Lord  Betterson's 
"castle." 

It  also  had  glimpses  of  Eufe,  with  light  and  jolly 
face,  driving  home  by  prairie  and  grove,  alone  in  the 
one-horse  wagon. 

Link  ran  out  to  meet  him,  swinging  his  cap  and 
shouting  for  the  news. 

"  Good  news  ! "  Eufe  shouted  back,  while  still  far 


THE  MORNING  AFTER.  273 

up  the  road.  "  Tell  the  folks  !"  And  he  held  up  the 
pocket-book 

It  was  good  news  indeed  which  he  brought ;  but 
the  mystery  at  the  bottom  of  it  all  was  a  mystery 
still 

The  family  gathered  around,  with  intense  interest, 
while  he  told  his  story  and  displayed  Ead's  panta 
loons. 

"  The  eighty  dollars,  which  you  had  counted  out, 
—  you  remember,  father,  —  was  loose  in  the  pocket. 
I  left  that  with  Jack;  he  will  send  it  to  Chicago 
to-day.  The  rest  of  the  money,  I  believe,  is  all  here 
in  the  pocket-book" 

"  And  you  've  heard  nothing  of  Kadcliff  ? "  said 
Mr.  Betterson. 

"  Not  a  word.  Jack  made  me  stop  with  him  over 
night;  and  I  should  have  come  home  the  way  we 
went,  and  looked  for  Had,  if  it  had  n't  been  so  far ; 
we  must  have  driven  twelve  or  fifteen  miles  in  that 
roundabout  chase." 

"  Some  accident  must  certainly  have  happened  to 
Kadcliff,"  said  Mr.  Betterson.  And  much  wonder  and 
many  conjectures  were  expressed  by  the  missing 
youth's  not  very  unhappy  relatives. 

"  I  bet  I  know  ! "  said  Link  "  He  drove  so  fast  he 
overtook  the  tornado,  and  it  twisted  him  out  of  his 
breeches,  and  hung  him  up  in  a  tree  somewhere  ! " 

An  ingenious  theory,  which  did  not,  however,  obtain 
much  credence  with  the  family. 

"  One  thing  seems  to  be  proved,  and  I  am  very  glad," 

12*  R 


274  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

said  Vinnie.  "  It  was  not  Zeph  who  took  Jack's 
compass." 

"  Rad  must  have  taken  that,  to  spite  Jack,  and  hid 
it  somewhere  near  the  road  in  the  timber,  where  it 
would  be  handy  if  he  ever  wanted  to  make  off  with 
it ;  that 's  what  Jack  thinks,"  said  Rufe.  "  Then,  as 
he  was  driving  past  the  spot,  he  put  it  into  the  buggy 
again." 

"  Maybe  he  intended  to  set  up  for  a  surveyor 
somewhere,"  Wad  remarked.  "  He  must  have  taken 
another  pair  of  trousers  with  him." 

"  I  am  sure  he  did  n't,"  said  Cecie. 

"  And  even  if  he  did,"  said  Rufe,  "  that  would  n't 
account  for  his  leaving  the  money  in  the  pocket." 

The  family  finally  settled  down  upon  a  theory 
which  had  been  first  suggested  by  Jack,  —  that  in 
fording  the  river  Rad  had  caught  his  wheels  in  the 
tree-tops  or  timbers  of  the  ruined  bridge,  and,  to  keep 
his  lower  garments  dry,  had  taken  them  off  and  left 
them  in  the  buggy,  while  he  waded  in  to  remove  the 
rubbish,  when  the  horse  had  somehow  got  away  from 
him,  and  gone  home.  It  also  seemed  quite  probable 
that  Rad  himself  had  become  entangled  in  drift-wood, 
and  been  drowned. 

"  Feed  the  mare,  boys,"  said  Lord  Betterson.  "  As 
soon  as  she  is  well  rested,  I  '11  drive  up  to  the  broken 
bridge,  and  see  if  any  discoveries  can  be  made." 

Meanwhile,  whatever  Radcliff's  fate,  it  did  not 
prevent  the  family  from  rejoicing  over  the  recovery 
of  the  lost  money.  And  now  Rufe's  attention  was 


THE   MORNING  AFTER.  275 

called  to  another  happy  circumstance,  one  which 
promised  to  be  to  them  a  source  of  deeper  and  more 
lasting  satisfaction. 

Cecie  could  walk  ! 

Yes,  the  marvellous  effects  of  the  previous  day's 
events  were  still  manifest  in  the  case  of  the  little  in 
valid.  Either  the  tremendous  excitement,  thrilling 
and  rousing  her  whole  system,  or  the  electric  shock 
which  accompained  the  whirlwind,  or  the  exertions 
she  felt  compelled  to  make  when  Ead  ran  off  with 
the  money,  —  or  all  combined  (for  the  doctors  were 
divided  in  opinion  on  the  subject),  —  had  overcome 
the  paralysis  of  her  limbs,  which  a  long  course  of 
medical  treatment  had  failed  to  remove. 

The  family  physician,  who  chanced  to  come  over 
from  the  Mills  that  day,  maintained  that  what  he  had 
been  doing  for  the  injured  spine,  the  source  of  Gecie's 
troubles,  had  prepared  the  way  for  this  result ;  while 
neighbor  Peakslow,  when  he  heard  the  news,  grunted, 
and  said  he  "  guessed  the  gal  could  'a'  walked  all  the 
time  if  she  had  only  thought  she  could,  or  wanted  to 
very  much."  All  which  made  Cecie  smile.  She 
only  knew  that  she  was  cured,  and  was  too  proud 
and  glad  to  care  much  what  was  said  of  her. 


276  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

FOLLOWING  UP  THE  MYSTERY. 

IN  the  course  of  the  day  Mr.  Betterson  and  Eufe 
visited  the  supposed  scene  of  Rad's  disaster,  and 
there  met  by  chance  Jack  and  his  friend  Forrest 
Felton,  who  for  a  similar  object  had  driven  up  from 
North  Mills. 

The  river  had  gone  down  almost  as  rapidly  as  it 
had  risen,  and  fording  it  now  by  daylight  was  no 
such  difficult  matter.  But  there  still  were  the  tim 
bers  and  tree-tops  amidst  which  the  vehicles  had 
passed  the  night  before. 

Jack  showed  marks  on  one  of  his  wheels  where 
the  spokes  had  been  sharply  raked,  and  told  how, 
examining  Snowfoot  by  daylight,  he  had  found 
muddy  splashes  on  his  flank,  as  if  he  had  been 
struck  there  by  a  bough  or  branch  drenched  in 
turbid  water. 

"  I  think,"  said  he,  "  that  as  Rad  was  getting  the 
buggy  clear,  the  limb  of  a  tree  turned  over  and  hit 
the  horse.  That  smarted  him,  and  away  he  went.  I 
don't  believe  Rad  is  drowned." 

Search  was  made  among  the  rubbish  at  the  bridge, 
and  for  some  distance  down  the  river ;  but  no  traces 
of  Rad  were  discovered. 


FOLLOWING  UP  THE  MYSTERY.  277 

"  Maybe  he  has  gone  home  by  water,"  was  Rufe's 
rather  too  playful  way  of  saying  that  the  drowned 
body  might  have  floated  down  stream. 

"  If  he  got  out  alive,"  said  Jack's  friend  Felton, 
"  he  must  have  found  his  way  to  some  house  near  by, 
in  quest  of  pantaloons."  And  the  party  now  pro 
ceeded  to  make  inquiries  at  the  scattered  huts  of  the 
Dutch  —  or  rather  German  —  settlers  along  the  edge 
of  the  timber. 

At  the  first  two  doors  where  they  stopped  they 
found  only  women  and  children,  who  could  speak 
no  English.  But  at  the  next  house  they  saw  a  girl, 
who  eagerly  answered  "  Yah  !  yah  ! "  to  their  ques 
tions,  and  ran  and  called  a  man  working  at  the  back 
door. 

He  was  a  short,  thick-set  man,  with  a  big  russet 
beard  and  serious  blue  eyes. 

"  Goot  morgin,"  he  said,  coming  to  the  road  to 
greet  the  strangers.  "  Der  been  some  vind  dis  vay, 
—  you  see  some  ?  —  vas  las'  ebening." 

The  strangers  acknowledged  that  they  had  expe 
rienced  some  effects  of  the  wind  the  night  before,  and 
repeated  their  questions  regarding  Kadcliff. 

"  Young  man,  —  no  priches,  —  yah !  yah ! "  replied 
Meinheer.  "He  come  'long  here,  vas  'pout  nine 
hours,  may  pe  some  more." 

"  A  little  after  nine  o'clock  last  night  ? "  suggested 
Jack. 

"  Yah,  yah !  I  vas  bed  shleepin',  somebody  knock 
so  loud,  I  git  some  candle  light,  and  make  de  door 


278  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

open,  and  der  vas  some  young  feller,  his  face  sick, 
his  clo'es  all  so  vet  but  his  priches,  —  his  priches 
vas  not  vet,  for  he  has  no  priches,  only  some  shoes." 

"  Where  did  he  come  from  ? " 

"He  say  he  come  from  up  stream;  he  pass  de 
pridge  over,  and  der  vas  no  pridge;  and  he  dhrive 
'cross  de  vaser,  and  he  cannot  dhrive  'cross;  so  he 
git  out,  only  his  priches  not  git  out,  for  de  vaser  vas 
v,et,  and  his  priches  keeps  in  de  vagon,  vile  he  keeps 
in  de  vaser;  he  make  some  lift  on  some  logs,  and 
someding  make  de  hoss  fright,  and  de  hoss  jump  and 
jerk  de  vagon,  and  de  vagon  jerk  someding  vat  jerk 
him;  and  de  priches  rides  off,  and  he  shtop  in  de 
vaser,  and  dhink  some,  and  git  sick,  and  he  say  de 
log  in  his  shtomach  and  so  much  vaser  was  pad,  and 
I  mus'  give  him  some  dhink  viskey  and  some  dry 
priches,  and  I  gives  'em." 

"  A  pair  of  your  breeches  ? "  cried  Rufe,  eying  the 
baggy  proportions  of  Meinheer's  nether  garments. 

"  I  have  no  oder ;  I  fetch  'em  from  faderland ;  and 
I  gives  him  some.  He  stick  his  legs  in,  and  some 
of  his  legs  come  too  much  under;  de  priches  vas 
some  too  vide,  and  some  not  long  genoof.  He  dhink 
more  viskey,  and  feel  goot,  and  say  he  find  his  team 
and  bring  back  my  priches  to-morrow,  and  it  is  to 
morrow  yet,  and  he  not  come." 

Even  the  grave  uncle  of  the  luckless  nephew  had 
to  laugh  as  he  thought  of  the  slim  legs  pursuing  their 
travels  in  the  short  but  enormous  "  priches  "  fetched 
from  fatherland. 


FOLLOWING  UP  THE  MYSTERY.        279 

"  How  much  were  your  breeches  worth  ? "  Lord 
said,  taking  out  some  money. 

"I  don't  know  —  I  don't  keeps  priches  to  sell; 
may  pe  vun  tollar." 

Betterson  gave  the  German  a  dollar,  saying,  — 

"  Allow  me  to  pay  for  them  ;  for,  if  I  mistake  not, 
you  will  never  see  the  young  man  or  your  breeches 
again." 

He  was  quite  right :  the  German  never  did. 

Neither  —  it  may  as  well  be  said  here  —  did  Ead- 
cliff's  own  relatives  see  him  again  for  many  years. 
What  various  adventures  were  his  can  only  be  sur 
mised,  until  one  of  the  "Philadelphia  partners," 
settling  up  his  accounts  with  the  world,  left  him  a 
legacy  of  six  thousand  dollars,  when  he  once  more 
bloomed  out  as  a  fine  gentleman,  and  favored  his 
Western  friends  with  a  visit. 

He  ran  through  his  little  fortune  in  a  few  months, 
and  once  more  disappeared  from  view,  to  turn  up 
again,  five  or  six  years  later  (when  Jack  and  Vinnie 
saw  him  for  the  last  time),  as  a  runner  for  one  of  the 
great  Chicago  hotels. 


280  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 


CHAPTER  XL. 

PEAKSLOW'S   HOUSE-RAISING. 

"  MERCY  on  me ! "  said  Caroline,  hearing  an  unu 
sual  noise  in  the  front  part  of  the  house ;  "  now  we 
are  to  have  the  racket  of  those  Peakslow  children  ! 
What  could  you  have  been  thinking  of,  Lavinia 
dear  ?  I  'm  sure  /  did  n't  know  what  I  was  saying 
when  I  gave  my  consent  to  their  coming.  The  idea 
of  their  turning  our  library  into  a  kitchen!  Not 
that  I  blame  you,  Lavinia  dear.  /  ought  to  have 
considered." 

"  Surely  you  would  n't  have  denied  the  houseless 
family  a  shelter  ? "  Vinnie  replied.  "  That  would 
have  seemed  too  bad,  with  those  great  chambers  un 
occupied.  As  for  the  library"  —  Vinnie  smiled,  for 
the  unfurnished  room  called  by  that  choice  name 
had  nothing  in  it  but  a  fireplace,  —  "I  don't  think 
any  harm  can  happen  to  that." 

Vinnie  had  a  plan  regarding  the  Peakslow  chil 
dren,  which  she  laid  before  Mrs.  Peakslow  as  soon  as 
the  new  inmates  were  fairly  settled  in  the  house. 

"  Since  my  sister  and  the  baby  have  been  so  much 
better,  I  have  begun  a  little  school,  with  only  two 
scholars,  —  Cecie  and  Lilian.  Would  n't  your  chil 
dren  like  to  join  it  ?  I  think  it  would  be  pleasant." 


PEAKSLOW'S  HOUSE-KAISING.  281 

"Whuther  they  would  or  not,  I'd  like  to  have 
'em,"  replied  Mrs.  Peakslow,  gratefully.  "The 
chances  for  schoolin'  is  dreffle  slim  in  this  country ; 
we  Ve  no  school-house  within  nigh  two  mile.  But 
how  shall  I  pay  ye  ?  " 

"  You  need  n't  mind  about  that." 

"Yes,  I  shall  mind  too.  We  must  do  somethin' 
for  you  in  return." 

"  Well,  then,"  said  Yinnie,  "  if  you  like,  you  may 
let  one  of  the  girls  help  a  little  in  my  sister's  kitchen, 
to  make  up  for  the  time  I  spend  with  them." 

"  I  '11  do  it,  sartin  !  You  shall  have  Lyddy.  She 's 
a  good  smart  hand  at  housework,  and  you  may  git 
all  out  of  her  you  can." 

So  it  was  arranged.  The  little  school  of  two  was 
increased  to  five  ;  the  "  parlor  "  —  used  only  to  store 
grain  in  hitherto  —  was  turned  into  a  school-room ; 
and  Lyddy  worked  in  Mrs.  Betterson's  kitchen. 

"  Lavinia  dear,  you  are  an  extraordinary  girl ! " 
said  Caroline.  "  It  seems  the  greatest  miracle  of  all 
to  see  one  of  the  Peakslows  washing  our  dishes  !  " 

No  one  was  better  pleased  with  this  arrangement 
than  Jack,  who  could  never  be  reconciled  to  seeing 
Yinnie — with  all  her  health  and  strength  and  cheery 
spirits — doing  the  hardest  of  the  housework. 

Jack  took  early  occasion,  on  visiting  Long  Woods, 
to  go  and  see  Mr.  Peakslow,  and  make  him  a  frank 
apology  for  having  once  suspected  Zeph  of  taking  his 
compass.  But  he  got  only  an  ugly  scowl  and  surly 
grunt  for  his  pains. 


282  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

For  a  while  Peakslow  did  not  go  near  his  family, 
quartered  in  his  enemy's  house  ;  but  slept  in  the 
haystack,  with  Dud  and  Zeph,  and  ate  the  meals  his 
wife  cooked  and  sent  to  him  three  times  a  day. 

But  soon  Dud  went  to  sleep  at  the  "  castle,"  and 
found  he  had  nothing  more  formidable  to  meet  than 
Vinnie's  bright  eyes,  —  for  Dud  had  suddenly  devel 
oped  into  a  bashful  youth. 

Zeph  in  a  night  or  two  followed  his  example,  and 
Peakslow  was  left  alone  in  his  haystack. 

And  the  nights  were  growing  chill;  and  the  re 
pair  of  the  buildings  went  on  slowly,  carpenters 
being  scarce ;  and  Peakslow,  who  had  a  heart  for 
domestic  comforts,  began  to  yearn  for  the  presence 
of  his  family  at  mealtime  and  bedtime. 

At  length  he  stole  into  the  house  after  dark  one 
evening,  and  stole  out  again  before  light  the  next 
morning.  That  did  not  seem  to  hurt  him ;  on  the 
contrary,  it  suited  Peakslow ;  his  neighbor's  house 
was  better  than  a  haystack.  Then  he  came  to  sup 
per  and  stayed  to  breakfast.  Then  there  was  no  good 
reason  why  he  should  not  come  to  dinner ;  and  he 
came  accordingly. 

Then  he  stopped  after  dinner  one  day  to  see  how 
Vinnie  conducted  her  little  school,  and  went  away 
looking  wonderfully  thoughtful.  The  boys  remem 
bered  tliat  he  did  not  scold  them  so  sharply  that 
afternoon  as  he  had  been  wont  to  do  since  the  tor 
nado  disturbed  his  temper. 

One  morning,  as  he  was  going  out,  Peakslow  saw 


PEAKSLOW'S  HOUSE-RAISING.  283 

Lord  Betterson  in  the  yard,  and  advanced  awkwardly 
toward  him,  holding  his  hat  in  one  hand  and  scratch 
ing  his  head  with  the  other.  There  was,  after  all,  a 
vein  of  diffidence  in  the  rough  quartz  of  the  man's 
character ;  and  somehow,  on  this  occasion,  he  could 
n't  help  showing  his  neighbor  a  good  deal  of  respect. 

"  I  'm  a-gun  to  have  a  bee  this  arternoon,  —  a 
raisin',  —  gun  to  try  to  git  the  logs  back  on  to  the 
house,  an'  the  ruf  on  to  the  shed,  —  everything 
ready,  —  some  o'  the  neighbors  comin'  to  help,  —  and 
if  you  an'  your  boys  can  lend  a  hand,  I  '11  do  as 
much  for  you  some  time." 

"  Surely ;  very  glad  to  serve  you,  Neighbor  Peak- 
slow,"  Lord  Betterson  replied,  in  his  magnificently 
polite  way,  much  as  if  he  had  been  a  monarch  dis 
missing  a  foreign  ambassador. 

Jack  came  over  to  Long  Woods  that  afternoon, 
and,  having  rectified  Mrs.  Wiggett's  noon-mark, 
stopped  at  Peakslow's  raising  on  his  way  back  up 
the  valley. 

He  found  a  group  of  men  and  boys  before  the 
house,  partaking  of  some  refreshments,  —  sweetened 
whiskey  and  water,  passed  round  in  a  pail  with  a 
tin  dipper  by  Zeph,  and  "  nut-cakes "  and  "  turn 
overs,"  served  by  Mrs.  Peakslow  and  'Lecty  Ann. 

The  sight  of  Snowfoot  tied  to  his  fence  made 
Peakslow  glare  ;  nor  was  his  ruffled  spirit  smoothed 
when  he  saw  Jack  come  forward  with  a  cheery  face 
and  a  compass  in  his  hand. 

Jack  greeted  the   Bettersons,   Mr.   Wiggett,   and 


284  THE  YOUNG   SUKVEYOR. 

one  or  two  others  he  knew,  and  was  talking  pleas 
antly  with  them,  when  Peakslow  pushed  the  inverted 
cut-water  of  his  curved  beak  through  the  crowd,  and 
confronted  him. 

"  So  that  air 's  the  compass,  is  it  ? " 

"  This  is  the  compass,  Mr.  Peakslow." 

"  Keep  it  in  yer  hand,  now'days,  do  ye  ?  Don't 
trust  it  in  the  wagon  ?  Good  idee  !  No  danger  of 
its  bein'  stole,  an'  your  comin'  agin  to  'cuse  my  boys 
of  the  theft!" 

Peakslow's  ancient  wrath  rekindled  as  he  spoke ; 
his  voice  trembled  and  his  eyes  flamed. 

Jack  kept  his  temper  admirably,  and  answered 
with  a  frank  and  honest  face,  — 

"  I  have  made  the  best  amends  I  could  for  that 
mistake,  by  apologizing  to  you  for  it,  Mr.  Peakslow. 
I  don't  keep  the  compass  in  my  hand  because  I 
am  afraid  it  may  be  stolen.  I  have  called  —  as 
I  promised  Mrs.  Peakslow  the  other  day  that  I 
would  do  —  to  give  her  a  noon-mark  on  her  kitchen 
floor." 

"  How 's  this  ?  —  promised  her  ?  —  I  don't  under 
stand  that ! "  growled  Peakslow. 

"  Yes,  pa ! "  said  Mrs.  Peakslow,  with  a  frightened 
look.  "  I  seen  him  to  Mis'  Betterson's.  He  'd  made 
a  noon-mark  for  Mis'  Wiggett,  and  Mis'  Betterson's 
sister  asked  me  if  I  would  n't  like  one,  as  he  was 
comin'  to  make  them  one  some  day." 

Off  went  Peakslow's  hat,  and  into  his  bushy  hair 
went  his  fingers  again,  while  he  stammered  out,  — • 


PEAKSLOW'S  HOUSE-KAISING.  285 

"  But  he  can't  make  no  noon-mark  this  arternoon, 
—  we  're  all  in  a  mess  an'  litter,  so  ! " 

"  Just  as  well  now  as  any  time,"  said  Jack.  "  The 
doorway  is  clear.  I  sha'  n't  interfere  with  any 
body." 

"  What  '11  be  to  pay  ?  "  Peakslow  asked. 

"  0,  I  don't  charge  anything  for  a  little  job  like 
this,  —  to  one  of  Mr.  Betterson's  neighbors." 

"  That 's  jes'  so ;  he  did  n't  charge  me  nary  red," 
said  Mr.  Wiggett.  "  An'  he 's  done  the  job  for  me 
now  tew  times,  —  fust  time,  the  tornado  come  and 
put  the  noon-mark  out  o'  j'int,  'fore  ever  a  noon  come 
round." 

Jack  adjusted  his  compass,  while  the  house-raisers 
looked  on,  to  see  how  the  thing  was  done,  Peakslow 
appearing  as  much  interested  as  anybody. 

Jack  got  Link  to  make  the  first  marks  for  him 
on  the  floor,  and  laughed,  as  he  looked  through  the 
sights  of  the  compass,  to  hear  Mr.  Wiggett  describe 
the  finding  of  his  section  corner,  —  "runnin'  a  line 
plumb  to  the  old  stake,  out  on  the  open  perairie,"  — 
and  praise  the  boy-surveyor's  skill. 

The  mark  was  made  with  quickness  and  precision ; 
friends  and  strangers  crowded  around  Jack  with  kind 
words  and  questions ;  and  he  was  surprised  to  find 
himself  all  at  once  a  person  of  importance. 

Peakslow  puffed  hard  at  his  pipe.  His  face  was 
troubled ;  and  two  or  three  times  he  pulled  the  pipe 
out  of  his  mouth,  thrust  his  knuckles  under  his  hat, 
and  took  a  step  toward  the  young  surveyor.  He 


286  THE  YOUNG  SURVEYOR. 

also  cleared  his  throat.  He  evidently  had  a  word  to 
say.  But  the  word  would  not  come. 

When  at  last  he  let  Jack  go  off  without  offering 
him  even  a  syllable  of  thanks,  the  bystanders  smiled, 
and  somebody  might  have  been  heard  to  mutter, 
"  Peakslow  all  over !  Just  like  his  hoggishness ! " 

Jack  smiled  too  as  he  went,  for  he  had  shrewdly 
observed  his  enemy,  and  he  knew  it  was  not  "  hog 
gishness"  which  kept  Peakslow's  lips  closed,  but  a 
feeling  which  few  suspected  in  that  grasping,  hard, 
and  violent-tempered  man. 

Peakslow  was  abashed! 


CONCLUSION.  287 


CHAPTER  XLI. 

CONCLUSION. 

THE  house  made  once  more  inhabitable,  Peakslow's 
family  moved  back  into  it.  But  this  change  did  not 
take  Lyddy  away  from  the  "  castle,"  nor  break  up 
Vinnie's  school. 

The  "castle "  now  underwent  some  renovation.  The 
long- neglected  plastering  was  done,  and  the  rooms  in 
daily  use  were  made  comfortable. 

Meanwhile  the  boys  were  full  of  ambition  regard 
ing  their  water- works.  The  project  had  cost  them  a 
good  deal  more  trouble  than  they  had  anticipated  at 
first ;  but  they  were  amply  repaid  for  all  on  the  day 
when  the  water  was  finally  let  on,  and  they  saw  it 
actually  run  from  the  spout  in  the  back-room !  Such 
a  result  had  seemed  to  them  almost  too  good  ever  to 
come  true ;  and  their  joy  over  it  was  increased  ten 
fold  by  the  doubts  and  difficulties  overcome. 

Jack  had  come  over  to  be  present  when  the  water 
was  brought  in,  and  he  was  almost  as  happy  over  it 
as  they. 

"  No  more  trouble  with  the  old  well ! "  said  Eufe. 

"  No  more  lugging  water  from  the  grove ! "  said  "Wad. 

"  Or  going  into  the  river  head-first  after  it,  as  you 
and  I  did !  "  said  Link. 


288 


THE  YOUNG   SUEVEYOR. 


Yinnie  was  proud  of  her  nephews,  and  Caroline 
and  Lord  were  proud  of  their  sons. 


THE  WATER  QUESTION  SETTLED. 

"  How  fine  it  will  be  for  your  dairy,  in  summer, 
—  this  cold,  running  water!"  said  Vinnie. 

But  Chokie  seemed  best  pleased,  because  he  would 


CONCLUSION.  289 

no  longer  be  dependent  upon  precarious  rains  filling 
the  hogshead,  but  would  have  a  whole  tankful  of 
water  —  an  ocean  in  the  back-room  —  to  sail  his 
shingle  boats  on. 

The  boys  had  also  acted  on  another  suggestion  of 
Jack's,  and  taken  the  farm  to  work.  This  plan  also 
promised  to  succeed  well.  The  prospect  of  doing 
something  for  themselves,  roused  energies  which 
might  have  lain  dormant  all  their  lives,  if  they 
had  been  contented  to  sit  still  and  wait  for  others 
to  help  them. 

As  Vinnie's  school  became  known,  other  pupils 
appeared  from  up  and  down  the  river,  and  by  the 
first  snowfall  she  had  more  than  a  dozen  scholars. 
Among  these  were  Sal  Wiggett  and  two  big  boys 
belonging  to  the  paternal  Wiggett's  "  third  crap  "  of 
children,  and  Dud  and  Zeph  Peakslow. 

The  Betterson  boys  also  attended  the  school,  Wad 
and  Link  as  pupils,  and  Eufe  partly  as  a  pupil  and 
partly  as  an  assistant.  Vinnie  could  teach  him  pen 
manship  and  grammar,  but  she  was  glad  to  turn  over 
to  him  the  classes  in  arithmetic,  for  which  study  he 
had  a  natural  aptitude. 

The  Peakslow  children,  both  boys  and  girls,  had  a 
good  deal  in  them  that  was  worth  cultivating ;  and 
amid  the  genial  associations  of  the  little  school  they 
fast  outgrew  their  rude  and  uncouth  ways.  It  was 
interesting  to  see  Zeph  and  Cecie  reciting  the  same 
lessons  side  by  side,  and  Rufe  showing  Dud  about 
the  sums  that  bothered  him. 

13  • 


290  THE   YOUNG   SURVEYOR. 

Caroline  had  very  much  objected  to  Vinnie's  en 
larging  her  school,  and  especially  to  her  receiving  the 
big  boys.  The  success  of  the  experiment  surprised 
her.  Vinnie  had  a  charming  way  with  the  younger 
children,  and  a  peculiarly  subduing  influence  over 
the  big  boys. 

"  Lavinia  dear,"  said  Caroline  "  what  have  I  always 
said  ?  You  are  a  most  extraordinary  girl ! " 

And  now  things  came  round  curiously  enough; 
and  an  event  occurred  of  which  nobody  could  have 
dreamed  when  Vinnie  set  out  alone,  with  a  brave 
heart,  to  do  her  simple  duty  to  her  sister's  family. 

It  was  found  that  she  had  a  happy  faculty  for 
interesting  and  instructing  the  young.  So  when,  in 
the  spring,  a  girls'  school  was  opened  at  North  Mills, 
she  was  offered  a  place  in  it  as  assistant  teacher, 
which  her  friends  there  —  Jack's  friends  —  prevailed 
on  her  to  accept. 

Leaving  Long  Woods  cost  her  many  regrets.  But 
the  better  order  of  things  was  now  well  established 
at  the  "  castle "  (which  was  fast  ceasing  to  be  a 
castle,  in  the  popular  speech) ;  and  she  felt  that  its 
inmates  could  spare  her  very  well,  —  if  they  would 
only  think  so ! 

Other  considerations  also  consoled  her  for  the 
change.  She  would  still  be  where  she  could  see 
her  relatives  often ;  and  now  Jack's  delightful  home 
was  to  be  her  own. 

THE  END. 


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